


It's A Colourful World Out There.

by Jack_Wilder



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AVOID THE ITALIC PART OF CHAPTER 8. IT CONTAINS A DREAM ABOUT RAPE!!!!, CHAPTER 8 CONTAINS A DREAM REGARDING RAPE!!, F/M, HEED THE FUCKING WARNING ABOUT CHAPTER 8!, Jack Rollins is a great friend with questionable morals, M/M, MENTIONS OF ABORTION IN CHAPTER 12!!! DO NOT READ IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU!!!!, Sam had a very colourful vocabulary, attempted drugging and kidnapping, lots of fights and cursing, potential kidnapping, soul bonds, soul mates, worlds of gray and worlds of colour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 80,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a war for life and freedom we found each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's Your Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Before a person meets his/her soul mate, they see the world in various shades of gray. Once they have met their soul mate and they touch, they can see in colour and there is a connection made in the brain that tells them which colour is which once they see it.
> 
> This fic just came out of nowhere, grabbed me and demanded that I write it. Now don't fear I haven't forgotten my other Sam/Brock fic, in fact I just posted a new chapter. I will be continuing all my fics. I am not abandoning any of my works.
> 
> This will NOT be similar to my other Sam/Brock fic. In this one Brock has no thought about redeeming himself; all he wants is his soul-mate, Sam no matter the cost and all Sam is trying to do is stay 10 steps ahead of him. 
> 
> All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistakes, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

Sam had heard the stories of how various family members, friends of the family and how her friends parents had met their soul mates. One minute their world is gray and the next it was bursting with colours.

She had often long for the day when her world would no longer be seen in what she considered a dreary gray and over flow with more colours than she would be able to name. Even more important is that she would find the person who she was destined to spend the rest of her life with.

One thing that Sam never considered is _who_  would turn out to be her soul-mate and when and how they would meet.

Let Sam's story begin.

It's not everyday that a you meet Steve Rogers during your morning run, only for him and a red-headed assassin running from persons trying to kill them turn up on your door step literally days later; and to return to the call of duty because Captain America needs your help. It's also not everyday you get back your old wings that you used during your time as a USAF pararescueman.

However, Sam did meet Steve Rogers, and it was her door step he and his red-headed assassin friend turned up on when they were running from persons trying to kill them, she returned to the call of duty because Captain America needed her help and the red-headed assassin broke into a heavily guarded military compound and stole her wings for her.

After they had successfully completed apprehending Sitwell, Sam hadn't counted on a thought to be rumoured assassin grabbing Sitwell through the backseat car window and throwing him to his death; she also hadn't counted on said assassin  trying to shoot both her and Steve in their heads only for a quick thinking Natasha to get them out of the way so that the bullets with their names on them went into the seat head rest instead and then  _tearing_ the car steering wheel out of her hands. 

There was a fire fight and it was all familiar to Sam, as she cut the rifle off of a Hydra agent and kicked him over the edge of a bridge.

She had even kicked the assassin -who turned out to be Steve's thought to be dead long lost best friend, Bucky Barnes- in his head when Steve was too stunned to defend himself. That is when Hydra agents posing as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents turned up and swarmed them.

They were all arrested, some faceless and nameless guy ripped Sam's wing pack from off her pack and handcuffed her.

"Can these cuffs be any tighter cocksucker?" She spat viciously at the man who ignored and instead lead her over to the back of a prisoner transport truck where Natasha was being hauled to as well by some fucking giant. 

Sam saw how badly Natasha was bleeding out from her shoulder wound and something inside her snapped when she saw how the Hydra asshole –who later she will learn is named Jack Rollins- manhandle her into the truck jostling her painful wound.

“Hey asshole!” Sam said and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the man’s stomach, -never mind that her hands were handcuffed behind her back-, causing him to double over and in the process release Natasha who got into the back of the truck herself.

Sam had little time to revel in her actions as her upper arm was roughly grabbed and she was spun around to look in a mix of very beautiful brown/hazel eyes, belonging to Brock Rumlow which were staring back at her in confusion.

“What the hell?” Sam whispered when she was grabbed from behind by a recovered Rollins and unceremoniously thrown into the back of the truck. She looked around and saw the dark red blood still flowing from Natasha’s shoulder, her vibrant red hair. She looked across at Steve and saw his corn-silk blond hair and his dead blue eyes.

Sam's view of her distraught friend was soon blocked by the black of Rumlow’s Hydra tactical gear.

“What’s your name?” He asked sounding breathless.

She looked up at him with her best defiant look, “go to hell you piece of shit.” She sneered.

Brock reached down and grabbed her by both her arms lifting her to her feet.

“What. Is. Your. Name?” He growled.

Sam looked him dead in his eyes, knowing who he was to her but at the same time unable to process her shit luck of finding her soul mate in this situation and just _who_ her soul mate is.

She felt him tighten his hold on her.

“Sam Wilson.” She said.

He let go of her arms and gently pushed her onto the bench.

“Stay put, don’t even think about moving an inch.” Brock said pointing at her and Sam had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. He then jumped out of the truck and walked away with one last look at Sam.

Sam turned when she felt someone nudge her shoulder and looked right into Natasha’s emerald green eyes.

“The fuck was that?” She slurred a little.

“I just found my soul mate.” Sam answered.

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Wow," Both women turned to look at Steve who was still staring at the floor of the truck, not seeing anything, "I wonder who have it worse: Me who just discovered my best friend has been alive this whole time and turned into a weapon by Hydra? Or you, who just found your soul-mate _is_  a Hydra agent?"

"I'd say Sam because she has no emotionally connection to that asshole, unlike you who is completely and utterly emotionally compromised." All eyes turned to the Hydra agent whose face was hidden by the visor helmet being worn, only for said agent to take out a stun baton to taser the other Hydra agent. 

It was safe to say that everyone was stunned when Maria Hill's face came into view after her helmet was removed.

"Enough chit chat, let's get the hell out of here."

Sam didn't argue with that, but somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind she would have liked to have seen Brock's expression when he found that she had escaped.

* * *

"FUCKING HELL!" Brock cursed and kicked the side of the truck from which Sam and the others had escaped from, denting it. "How hard is it to keep prisoners from escaping?!" He yelled at the unconscious body of the guard who Maria had used the stun baton on.

"Brock." He turned at the voice of his right-hand man, Jack Rollins.

"What!" he snapped, looking back at the empty truck as if his soul-mate would some how magically reappear in it.

Jack signaled for Brock to come over to where he was standing away from where other ears may hear the question he was about to ask. Brock complied with a huff. 

"Who's that woman? The shorty who kicked me in the stomach?"

"Sam Wilson, my soul-mate."

Jack whistled, "that's fucked up man. An _Avenger_  is your soul-mate." 

"Tell me something I don't know." Brock growled, he remembered the fire and defiance in those dark brown eyes, the beautiful, long soft looking dark hair that he had the urge to run his fingers through, the smooth dark skin which he felt beneath his fingers.

He clenched his fists, "I told her to stay put."

Jack laughed at that and Brock glared at him.

"She's what- 5'1"-the most, she gave me a powerful round-house kick in my stomach with her hands tied behind her back and you expected her to stay put just because you told her to?"

Hearing someone else say it made Brock see the stupidity of his words.

"I want her back. She's _mine."_

Jack eyed his friend, "ok, so what's your plan?"

"You're going to help me?"

"Yeah, my best-friend found his soul-mate, of course I'm going to help you kidnap her."

"I wasn't-" Brock began to say but shut up at the look jack gave him.

"You're Hydra, she doesn't want anything to do with you, soul-mate or not. Trust me, the only way to get her is by _kidnapping_ her. So what's your plan?"

Brock looked around at the other agents who were sure to be reprimanded by Alexander Pierce for losing such valuable prisoners, "let's finish up here first, launch Project Insight and then we can go after Sam Wilson."

"Ok. Best of luck to us." Jack held up his fist and Brock bumped his own to it."

"Best of luck to us." The men parted ways, going back to their assigned duties.

* * *

Sam was staring out the the vast greenery before her, she stood at the highest point she could access at the safe house where a thought to be dead Nick Fury was recuperating from being shot by the Winter Soldier. Natasha, Steve and her were all just briefed on Fury's plan to sabotage the Helicarriers by replacing their controller chips.

She processed all the information that she had gotten, but she had needed some peace and quiet to absorb all that had happened that day; the most significant being that she had found her soul-mate only for him to be a Hydra agent.

" _Fuck."_  She dragged out the word as she dragged her fingers through her hair in frustration.

"My sentiments exact." 

Sam didn't startle when she heard the voice behind her, nor did she turn to acknowledge Steve's presence when he came to stand beside her. 

"How are you feeling?"

Steve sighed before answering, "like a bucket of cold water was thrown on me and that's saying something."

Sam nodded but remained silent.

"What about you? How are you taking the revelation about your soul-mate?"

"I just-" she began and stopped, looking up at the sky as if it held all the answers to her current problem. Steve remained silent and let his friend gather her thoughts.

"I once told my parents when I was eight that I would love my soul-mate unconventionally, no matter if they were a king, pauper, lawman or a criminal." Sam laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Being confronted with this situation now, I see how naive and stupid I was."

"No, you were never naive or stupid. You were a child and wanted to see the good in your soul-mate."

"Yeah, well I can't see any good in my soul-mate." Sam said and then seemed to be thinking about something, "what is his name, I just realized that I do not know his name."

"Brock Rumlow." Steve supplied.

"Brock." Sam echoed, "well let's hope we don't run into him again. Now let's go take down some helicarriers." She said as she walked off.

Steve grinned and began following his friend.

* * *

In the short span of a few hours Sam was walking beside Steve on top of a helicarrier when out of nowhere the Winter Soldier came and kicked Steve off of it. Sam was about to fly and rescue him when she felt something grabbed her wing and drag her back. She spun around mid-flight and took out her sub-machine guns firing at her assailant, not caring if he was Steve's long-lost-thought-to-be-dead-best friend.

When the way was clear again, Sam was trying to fly away when she again felt something grab her wing and dragged her forcefully back down to earth. She heard the straining and screeching of metal as one of her wings were ripped off and her heart broke into two at the sight, but she didn't have long to mourn her wings before she too was kicked off the helicarrier, spinning off balance towards the rapidly approaching ground.

Sam managed to release her parachute in time and landed a bit hard but  with all her bones intact.

"Cap! My wings were destroyed! I'm grounded."

"It's ok Sam, I'm still on the helicarrier."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief that her friend was still safe somewhat. However, it was short-lived as her ear piece crackled in her ear, with Maria Hill's voice saying, _"Rumlow's on his way to the World Security Council members, can you get to him first?"_

Sam closed her eyes and clenched her fist, now was not the time to bring personal feelings into a war. She opened her eyes, determination radiating from her entire body.

"Yes, just give me his exact location." Sam replied ah she ran, shedding her wing pack.

_"He's going to cut through an office on the 41st floor, go wait for him there and do not let him get any further."_

"Right." Sam pumped her legs to go faster and jumped down the last few flight of stairs which lead to the designated room. A few seconds later the door which Sam was hiding behind opened and in walked Brock, he never knew what hit him when Sam delivered a wicked punch across his jaw.

She went in for another hit, but Brock blocked it and head butted her, causing her to fall to the floor. 

" _Hydra_ doesn't take prisoners," Brock began to say as Sam regained her bearings, "but _I_  do." That got her attention and her eyes snapped up to Brock who took something out of his pocket.

Her eyes widened when she saw that it was a syringe, filled with some clear liquid that Sam had no doubt was nothing good. 

"I didn't think I would have seen you today." Brock began walking and Sam did the same so that they were circling each other. "I walked with this in case I did," he held up the needle and twirled it between his fingers, "and I am _very_  glad that I did." 

Sam looked from Brock's eyes to the needle in his hand, back to his eyes, "I'm glad as well, means I can knock out your ass much faster."

Brock threw his head back and laughed, "Oh Sam, I'm going to have so much fun getting to know you."

"Fuck you." Sam spat.

Brock raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes giving Sam an appreciative once over which made her skin crawl.

"We'll get to that at some point too sweetheart."

Sam having enough of his bullshit threw one of her knives at him which he dodged.

"Man, shut the hell up!"

That seemed to have been the catalyst because Brock lunged at Sam who spun out of the way and kicked him behind his knee, forcing him to the ground and kicked the syringe out of his hand and kicked it under a desk out of the way. She did a back-flip to dodge a swipe kick Brock aimed at her to knock her feet from under her.

"You can't win against me," Brock taunted, "so just come with me quietly and I won't have to hurt you."

Sam leveled him with a wicked smirk, "I have no intentions of going anywhere quietly."

 The smirk on Brock's face was lecherous, "I was hoping that you'd be a screamer in bed."

He got a knee to the gut and a backhand across his face for that comment.  

"Good thing you'll never find out."

Brock wiped the blood from his busted cheek, "never say _never_  sweetheart." He looked over Sam's shoulder and Sam barely had time to dodge the arms that almost closed around her.

She spun around only to come face to face with none other than Jack Rollins, the asshole she had kicked earlier.

"What the hell is this?" Sam was looking back and forth between both men who kept advancing on her each time she stepped back and she tried not to let them corner her or get close to her. "Hill, I have a slight problem here."

_"What is it?"_

"Rumlow brought a friend." Sam's eyes never left them. 

_"Fuck. Can you hold your own against them until back-up reaches you?"_

Brock slid one of his feet forward and Sam shifted one of hers backwards.

"I repeat: just come quietly and we won't have to hurt you. We won't knock you out, promise."

Sam resisted the urge to flip him off "Yeah," she subtly slid a knife out of her back holster, "I can hold my own against these cunts."

The two men in front of her shared and look with each other and then looked at her, in the next second they had charged at her, but Sam was ready for them. She brought the knife out from behind her and slashed upwards at Brock, making him dodge the attack and step back, while at the same time she kicked out as hard and high as she could right into Jack's chest. She then side-stepped and ran around a desk so that it was between her and her attackers.

Her fists were raised, one curled around her lucky knife which was gifted to her by her dead best friend Riley. She wasn't out of breath yet, but she was wondering when back-up would arrived. Just then there was a loud explosion which shook the place and the twin looks of shock on both Brock's and Jack's faces were enough to tell her that Steve had succeeded in planting the last controller chip; but she did not take her eyes away from her own fight.

However, that seemed to have spurred them on even more because soon Sam was on the defensive, doing all she could to block punches, kicks, slaps and not let them grab her. That did not last long as Brock had grabbed her by her wrist and she spun around and _bit_  him, in retaliation he threw her over a desk and she landed hard on her back a bit dazed. Brock jumped up on said table and she knew that Jack was walking around it in order to grab her.

"Give up kid, you're way out of your depth."

Sam was about to reply when she saw a falling helicarrier crash into the window of the office they were currently in. Sam got up and started running, hearing the curses of Brock and Jack behind her and their pounding footsteps.

Sam screamed "NOT AN OPTION! _"_ into her earpiece when Natasha suggested she remain where she was until Fury and her came to pick her up. She was running full speed ahead to a ceiling to floor glass window when she heard Brock shout.

"Don't you dare fucking jump Sam!"

' _Too fucking late,'_ she thought as almost fell through the other door of the helicopter. She didn't dare look back to see if Brock and his friend had gotten out or not, realizing just how close she was to getting captured by two Hydra agents, one of whom is her soul-mate. 

Later on when they had found Steve and he had recuperated from his injuries they were given a folder by Natasha with leads on a on the run Bucky Barnes.

"You don't have to do this Sam." Steve said to her as he looked at the contents of the folder and she smirked.

"I know. When do we begin?"


	2. A Visit In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months is a long time.
> 
> Murder is suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured you all could use another story update. You're welcome!!! :D
> 
> All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

**7:23 P.M. Washington D.C**

Steve finally pulled up outside of Sam's home, after six months of non-stop searching for Bucky.  They had a long discussion they had both agreed to come home, rest, learn more about Hydra and the  _Winter Soldier_  programme and start the search again.

Sam was asleep and Steve woke her up with a gentle touch to her shoulder. Her eyes opened and she recognized her surroundings.

"Hope you weren't too bored on the drive back. I didn't know how tired I was." She stretched and looked at him, a small smile on his lips.

"It's ok, I'd be tired too, if I had a super soldier hauling me all over God's green earth, searching for another super-soldier."

"You do know that I don't mind? If I did I would not have offered up my services that time you and Natasha sought out shelter here. I'm not complaining."

Steve looked out the windscreen, "I know and I really appreciate you coming with me. Whether you know it or not, just having your presence around kept me from doing  _a lot_  of stupid things."

Sam smiled, "good to know that. Now I am going to go inside and sleep for about a week. You should get some rest as well."

Steve nodded and Sam let herself out of the car, turning back to wave at her friend before walking into her house and closing the door behind her. She heard Steve drive off and let the quiet of the house surround her. 

Sam walked around her house checking that all the windows and doors were still locked, even though her neighbour next door was keeping an eye on her house for her. Satisfied that her house was secure Sam went upstairs for a long hot shower and a good night's sleep.

**3:23 A.M.**

Sam was dead asleep when something woke her. She kept her breathing deep and even as she listened to her surroundings, not hearing anything she opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness of her room, the streetlight outside barely offering any light at all. Satisfied that she was still in fact alone in her home she turned on her room light and got out of bed.

She took her time going downstairs and into the kitchen where she got a glass of water and went back upstairs. However, she missed the slightly opened window in her living room and the curtain swaying in the breeze.

Sam walked back into her bedroom and was making her way around her bed when the bedroom door slammed shut; she spun around, only for her grip on the glass cup to go slack, causing it to fall her hand and shatter on the hardwood floor when her eyes settled on Jack Rollins who was now blocking her closed bedroom door. 

The look on his face was smug and he was blocking her only way out of the room. She took a step back ready to turn and run into the bathroom when she heard a voice behind her.

"Long time no see Sam."

Sam closed her eyes and slowly turned around, hoping that it was just her tired brain playing a cruel joke on her, but no, when she opened them Brock Rumlow stood in the door way of her bathroom. She turned slightly so that she could look at both men at the same time. 

"Six months is an awful long time not to see one's soul-mate."

Sam had yet to say anything; she was well and truly corned this time, nowhere to run.

"How did you get in here?" Sam was furious that her  _home_  had been  _violated_ , soul-mate or not, he had no right being here.

Brock had a mock look of surprise on his face, "through the front door of course."

"Ok, so use it to leave and I won't have to break my window by throwing you and your goon through it." Sam was both mentally and physically tired for this shit. She kept questioning that why out of the billions of people populating the earth she had to end up with this asshole as her soul-mate.

"Sure, we'll leave but you're coming with us." 

Sam raised an eyebrow at Jack who had spoken and bared her teeth, "like hell I am."

She kicked her side table towards Brock who jumped out of the way, but it slowed him down as it was now lodged in the bathroom doorway and he had to jump over it to get out. Jack moved from the bedroom door and jumped over Sam's bed in an attempt to grab her but she dodged him and ran for the door only to be grabbed viciously from behind by her hair and could not help the cry of pain which left her lips.

Sam kicked back and her foot connected with Jack's knee and he went down, she spun around and punched him in his jaw, "don't touch my hair!" 

She kicked him in his chest, but she was unable to dodge the punch that Brock delivered across her cheek and she fell back and rolled ass overhead, feeling dazed from the hit and knew that she would be sporting an ugly bruise tomorrow morning. She felt Brock grab her like the first time in the back of the prisoner truck and head-butted him as soon as they were on eye level.

"Son of a bitch!"

Sam made another dashed to towards freedom only to go down hard when Jack grabbed her foot. She turned over and saw a syringe in his hand. That made her double her efforts to escape and she kicked at his hand with her free foot, successfully kicking the syringe out of it and far under her bed; she then brought up her knee as hard as she could and kneed him in his crotch, causing him to let go of her foot and double over in pain.

Free at last, she scrabbled to get up and had brushed the doorknob with her fingers when two strong arms wrapped around her body, pinning her arms to her side and lifted her off the ground.

"NO! NO! Put me down!" She thrashed wildly, but Brock had a strong hold on her. 

"Shh, shh, stop fighting. Calm down." Brock said in her ear as he walked them over to her bed.

"Fuck you! You calm down! Let me go and get out of my house!" Sam tried kicking and head butting him but nothing helped.

Her world tilted upside down when she was thrown onto her bed, however, she was given no time to gather her bearings as Brock turned her over on her back and proceeded to climb onto her, straddling her waist and pinning down her arms. 

Fearing the worst was about to come she lost all rational thinking and began screaming, ** _"HELP!! SOMEONE! HEL-!_** " Her screaming was cut short when Brock covered her mouth with his hand.

"Can you get the fucking needle?!" he hissed at Jack who was trying to retrieve the syringe from under Sam's bed.

"I  _am_  trying! Why did your soul-mate have to kick so _hard?_ "

"Quit complaining and hurry up! Someone more than likely heard her screams." Brock looked at Sam who was glaring at him and smiled, "I like the fire in your eyes."

Sam bucked up trying to throw him off but he would not budge.

Just then Jack stood up, needle in hand and Sam began to thrash again, shaking her head, she felt tears slide down the sides of her face not caring that they were seeing her cry. She was  _terrified_. 

Terrified about what they were going to do to her.

Terrified that she would never see her family or friends again.

Terrified that Steve would never find her, like how they couldn't find Bucky.

Brock gently turned her head to the side, baring her neck for the sharp prick of the needle.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to feel the needle pierce her skin and for the liquid in the needle to put her to sleep. However, nothing came except for the loud sound of a body hitting against her chest of drawers  _hard_. Sam opened her eyes to see an  _enraged Bucky_ standing over her like an avenging angel.

"Get off of her." He growled, fire burning in his eyes that would have made the devil piss himself. 

Brock chuckled and let go of her wrists and removed his hand from her mouth, he sat back on his heels, still straddling Sam's waist.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? I thought you were running around Europe blowing Hydra facilities to hell soldier."

Bucky ignored the taunting, and in a move faster than Sam's eyes could process he had kicked Brock square in the chest, something that Sam has experienced herself and sent him flying into the wall behind him.

Sam was still lying prone on the bed in shock when Bucky grabbed her off the bed and unto her feet. Bucky leaned down so that he could look into her eyes.

"Are you ok?"

"What?" Sam was puzzled as to why he was asking about her well-being.

"Did they hurt you?"  

Sam shook her head, "no."

"Good."

As soon as Bucky said that he threw Sam down on the ground and covered her body with his as bullets hit the wall that they were standing in front of a few seconds before. Concrete from the wall rained down on them as the gunshots were muffled by a silencer.

There was a deafening silence which settled in the room after the sudden burst of gunfire and Bucky took the opportunity, he got up and grabbed Sam's hand hauling ass out of the room.

"Run and don't look back!"

Sam didn't have to told twice as she gripped his hand tighter, keeping up his fast pace as they tore through her house towards the back door. Bucky didn't even pause in his running, he simply kicked down the door and kept running, holding tight to Sam's hand as they raced across her spacious back yard, the moon providing some light so Sam could see where she was going, and in that same moment, she was silently thanking her mother in for allowing her to down gymnastics while growing up, when Sam realized that they were going to scale her modestly high backyard fence. 

They released their hold on each other's hand and jumped at the same time, grabbing the top of the fence and pulled themselves over it, landing on the balls of their feet on the other side. Sam was glad that the pavement was clear of sticks and stones as she would have had bleeding feet since she was bare-feet.

Bucky without missing a beat, grabbed her hand again and continued running, to somewhere Sam did not know, that is until he led her to the soon-to-be finished new set of apartments about fifteen minutes away from where she lived. Bucky walked around the back of the construction site and went through a hole in the chain-link fence. He led Sam to a unit on the fourth floor; she looked around and saw a sleeping bag positioned so that Bucky had a view of the entire room, and was close to another exit in case he had to make a quick escape, there was a backpack by the sleeping bag and-

"Is that a sniper rifle?"

Bucky looked over to where she was looking and nodded, "yes."

Sam nodded her head in a dazed manner, "ok, alright." She began shaking and knew that her adrenaline rush was wearing off. She jumped a little when she felt something warm and soft wrap around her shoulders only to realize that it was a blanket Bucky had wrapped her in.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Now, what the  _hell_  are you doing  _here_? Last Steve and I knew, we lost you somewhere in France. So what are you doing here in D.C. and in  _my_ neighbourhood?" 

Bucky went and sat down on his sleeping bag, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on them.

"I really would appreciate an answer considering what I just went through; thank you for rescuing me by the way."

Bucky remained silent.

Sam huffed and rolled her eyes in annoyance, "look I was just attacked in my house, I was rescued by the  _Winter Soldier_ and then had to flee my house in nothing but my pyjamas! I am cold and tired, so answer me! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Steve trusts you."

Sam blinked, "what?"

"Steve trusts you, so I figured I could ask you about him. I have been following you both since you left France and I was going to approach you tonight but Rumlow got to you first."

"Jesus, why didn't you just go to Steve? He's killing himself trying to find you."

"Because I really didn't want to see his sad face. I'm not who he remembers, I'll never be that person again, and so I didn't want to face him and see that look of sadness."

Sam deflated at that answer, she went and sat beside him so that her arm pressed against his metal arm, folding her legs under her and burrowing down into the blanket, "look, he's happy that you are alive and concerned about your well-being. Yes, he will be sad that you will not be like you were before, but he will be over the moon when you go to him, especially when he hears that you rescued me from Rumlow."

She let what she said sink into Bucky's head and he gave her a small shy smile.

"Now, if you don't mind, do you have a phone I can use to call him? He should know about the attack."

Bucky sighed and reached into his backpack taking out a burner phone and handing it to her, "it's ok to tell him where you are and how you're with."

She smiled, "thank you." 

Sam dialled Steve's number and listened as it connected.

 _"'ello?"_ Was the sleepy answer.

"Steve?"

_"Sam?"_

She heard rustling on the other end and figured Steve was moving to sit up in bed.

_"What's wrong? Are you ok?"_

"Rumlow and his goon attacked me in my house."

_"WHAT?!"_

Sam heard something shatter on the other end of the line and heard Steve swear.

"Are you ok?!"

"Steve-"

"How'd you get away?!"

"Steve-"

“Where are you now?!"

Sam pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Are you safe?! Stay where you are I am coming for you."

"Bucky rescued me." 

As soon as Sam said those words there was dead silence on the other end of the call and she looked at Bucky who was looking back at her, no doubt having heard Steve's side of the conversation due to the bastardized version of the super soldier serum running though his  veins.

"What did you say?" Steve whispered.

"Bucky rescued me. Look Steve I can't explain everything right now, just come and get us-"

"Wait, he's there? Right now?"

"Yes, he is. So come and get us before he runs." Sam said looking Bucky in the eyes, silently daring him to run.

"Just tell me where you are and I'll be there."

Sam told Steve where they were and hung up.

"Fuck my life for giving me a soul-mate who is a Hydra agent."

"What?"

Bucky's eyes were wide in surprise; it was the only other expression a part from 'murderous glare' that she had seen on Bucky's face.

"Yeah, Brock Rumlow is my soul-mate. Fuck my life."

"Fuck your life in deed. You must have done some real bad shit in a past life to end up with him as your soul-mate." Bucky shook his head in pity.

"Gee thanks a lot." Sam said sarcastically, but she agreed with him. What the hell had she ever done to deserve this kind of shit-ass deal? Who had she fucked over why karma is fucking her over now?

"What are you going to do? He's not going to stop until her has you."

"I don't know." Sam got up and began pacing, Bucky's eyes following her every move. "All I am doing right now is trying to stay ten steps ahead of him. He tried kidnapping me the day we took down  _Project Insight_ as well, but one of the Helicarriers brought down the building and I was able to escape."

"Yeah, about that, I’m sorry I tried to kill you, destroyed your car and your wings."

Sam smiled, "thank you for that. I really appreciate your apology Buck."

Bucky gave her a devious smile, "and to show  _my_ appreciation for you accepting my apology I will kill Brock Rumlow for you."

The room was deadly silent around them.

Sam blinked and then blinked again.

"Jesus Christ, you're actually  _serious_. Why-"

" _Why?_ " Bucky actually looked disgusted that Sam would ask him why he would take the life of another person for her. "He had a hand in robbing me of my life, keeping me as a prisoner of war. Why wouldn't I want to kill him?"

Sam dragged her hand down her face and wrapped the blanket tighter around her small frame, feeling too tired for talks of murdering her soul-mate who tried to kidnap her for the second time. She was saved from having to say anything when they both heard footsteps coming up the stairs. 

Bucky was up in and instant, putting himself between Sam and the door, gun drawn and aimed in case it was foe instead of friend. 

"Sam?!" It was Steve.

"Steve!" Sam moved out from behind Bucky when the door to the apartment opened and Steve burst through it.

He stopped in his tracks and looked her up and down as if checking for injuries. He then stepped forward and Sam met him half way to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Oh my God Sam, are you ok?"

Sam managed to nod her head where it as pressed against chest. "Bucky came in at the right time and rescued me." She had broken the hug and turned to look at Bucky who was staring pass her at Steve.

Both men stood there silently looking at each other with Sam in the middle. 

"Thank you," Steve's voice was watery but no one said anything, "thank you for saving her."

Bucky shrugged, "I was in the neighbourhood."

Both Sam's and Steve's eyes went wide.

"Did you just-" Sam turned her head to look up at a stunned Steve, "did he just make a  _joke_?"

"Really? Six months of chasing your ass down with no luck, only for you to show up in D.C. and all you can say is 'I was in the neighbourhood?' You're a fucking punk Bucky."

Bucky smirked.

"Well joke or not," Sam walked over to Bucky and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tensed which Sam ignored, "thank you again for saving me Bucky." After a few seconds Bucky tentatively wrapped his arms around her.

"Just so you know," he said into her ear, "this is the first human contact I have had over in seventy years that is not meant to hurt me."

No one commented on the fact that Steve sniffled and Sam tightened her arms around his neck, going up on her tip-toes because he was much taller than her.

 

"Well I hope you know that you have many more hugs like this in your future if you come with us." Sam released her hold on Bucky to look him in his eyes.

"You're using hugs as an incentive to get me to come with you?" Bucky asked, voice laden with amused disbelief.

"Yes, I am." Sam went and stood beside Steve, "so are you coming?"

Bucky shrugged, "got nowhere else to go."

Sam grinned and Steve smiled.

"Great. Now just one other matter."

Both men gave her their undivided attention.

"Who's going to carry me? Because I am not walking bare-feet outside; running was enough." Sam said in all seriousness looking between them.

* * *

 

Steve brought Sam and Bucky back to his new apartment which was a gift from Tony Stark. It was a rather extravagant gift, but he was not going to refuse it, seeing as how Tony guaranteed that it was not bugged in anyway shape or form and if anyone did try to bug it,   _Jarvis was_ linked to the home security system and would not only destroy the bugs but trap the person in the apartment until the Avengers got to them.

Sam whistled when she set foot passed the entry way.

"Sweet place Rogers."

"Thanks, courtesy of Tony."

"He's a great guy isn't he? Getting you a new apartment because a  _certain_  someone," Sam stared hard at Bucky, "put three bullet holes into your living room wall and getting me a new car because again a  _certain_  someone wrecked my other car."

Bucky not fazed at all simply said "you're welcome," before throwing his back pack and sniper rifle on the couch and heading straight for the kitchen to raid Steve's fridge.

"Mind if I use your shower Steve?" Sam asked even as she walked off into what she hoped was the correct direction of the master bedroom and it turns out she was right. Steve's room was painted in a calming shade of blue, his bed-sheets were mussed, evidence of him being asleep when Sam had called him. There were sketches and paintings on the walls, done by Steve and Sam she liked it. It felt as if a person was actually living here and was happy that her friend made it into his home.

"I don't think any of my shorts or pants can fit you but here's a t-shirt you can wear."

Sam took the offered t-shirt and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She figured that Bucky and Steve needed some time alone with each other and she knows that  _she_  needed some time alone with herself.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror in and saw all the bruises she had received almost an hour ago. Her arms and wrists had finger print bruises; there were also finger print bruises on her cheek where Brock's fingers pressed into it when he had covered her mouth with his hand and worst was the large, ugly, purple bruise that had taken up the majority of her right cheek where Brock had punched her. She touched it and winced as pain radiated through it and up into her head.

Sam turned away and stripped off her dirty and ruined sleep wear and stepped under the spray of hot water. She just stood there for a few minutes, allowing the water to run over her bruises and sooth an ache that she felt deep within the marrow of her bones. She then grabbed Steve's soap and begin to wash herself when she heard the door open and then Steve's voice.

"Bucky! Have some decency! Let Sam shower in privacy!"

"What the hell?" Sam stuck her head around the shower curtain to see Bucky sitting on the bathroom counter, a beer in hand and crossing his eyes at Steve like a 5 year old.

"Sam doesn't mind. Do you Sam? See she doesn't." Bucky said before Sam had gotten a chance to respond.

She rolled her eyes and went back to showering as the two old friends continued to bicker outside the shower curtain.

"I'm coming out now, so both of you out."

"Come on Steve, you perv." Bucky said as he walked out of the bathroom.

"What?!"

"Staying in here while Sam's showering; your mother would be ashamed of you, trying to tarnish Sam's reputation."

"After 70 years you're still an asshole Buck."

Sam chuckled to herself and waited for the door to close before she stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off, cautious of her injuries and donned the shirt Steve lent her. 

She walked into the living room where Steve was sitting in the recliner watching Bucky clean his sniper rifle a look of contentment on his face.

"So what are we going to do about Brock? He's become a  _huge_  problem." 

Two sets of eyes turned to look at her.

"Well I can always slit him from ear to ear." Bucky offered and Sam did a double take when she saw a dangerous looking knife being twirled between her fingers.

"Ok...how about something other than murder?"

"I have to agree with Bucky on this Sam."

Bucky smiled smugly and Sam rolled her eyes.

"You're only agreeing because he's your soul-mate, which you are in case you didn't remember Bucky."

"I remember that." Bucky said softly and both Sam and Steve smiled gently.

Soon though Steve turned serious again, "all joking aside though Sam, I really do think taking Brock out is the only way you can be safe and to continue living your life without fear that he is going to come for you again."

Sam chewed on her bottom lip in thought.

"How about this," Bucky said, "why don't you go and sleep and we can decide on what to do in the morning."

Steve nodded at his idea, "yeah Sam, go and get some rest and we can fly over to Tony in the morning and discuss it with the rest of the team."

Sam seemed to consider their words and suddenly realized how tired she felt now that her adrenaline rush was over.

"Ok, that's seems like a good idea." She rose gracefully and kissed Steve on his cheek, "thanks for putting me up."

"Anything for you Sam." Steve smiled up at her.

She turned and walked over to Bucky whose eyes were tracking her every movement. She bent over and kissed him on his cheek as well. "Thank you for rescuing me."

Bucky's cheeks warmed, "anytime."

Both men watched as she walked down the hallway towards one of the guest bedrooms.

As soon as the door closed Bucky spun around to face Steve, eyes narrowed, "you do know that once Brock is alive he will keep coming for her."

"I know." He sighed a world weary sigh, "all we can do is help Sam stay ten steps ahead of him." The determination was clear in Steve's voice and Bucky nodded his agreement.

That night Sam slept while a super soldier and the world's deadliest assassin kept watch over her.

* * *

 

**On the other side of town...**

"You do know if you do this, you will be calling down the wrath of all the Avengers on us?" Jack made sure to ask his friend.

"Trust me, it will all be worth it when this is over." Brock said as he stared at a certain woman's photograph. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is fine. He has all his memories, the good and the bad. 
> 
> He's secretly a five year old child who likes to suggest murder as a solution for everything.


	3. Deal With The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was my birthday, so I decided to gift you all with a new chapter.
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy it! 
> 
> All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

Later that day, when the sun was up in the sky, so were Sam, Steve and Bucky on their way to Avengers Tower courtesy of a S _tark Jet_. Bucky sat slouched in a plush leather seat, his cap pulled low over his face, but both Sam and Steve knew he was far from sleeping.

"So what's the plan for when we land?" Steve asked Sam who had been staring out the window of the jet since she boarded it, lost in her own thoughts.

"I honestly don't know." The events from just hours before, kept replaying in her head and she continuously had to remind herself that she was safe. _But for how long,_  a traitorous part of her mind taunted her.

"I have no idea what Brock's end game is. He just seems to want me and is willing to do anything to get me." Sam finally spun around to face Steve. "I mean he  _walked_  with some sort of sedative on the day  _Project Insight_  fell without even knowing of he was going to see me, much less fight me on that day, he even brought help. And again last night, he must have had eyes on my home. Do you know how violated that makes me feel Steve? Do you?"

Steve remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"What happens when he comes after me the third time? And we all know the saying, _'third time's the charm.'_ "

"Hey, no," Steve got up and went to kneel beside the chair that Sam was curled up in, he took both her hands in his and made sure he had her attention, "he's not going lay one finger on you. He got lucky the first two times but there  _won't_  be a third. You have me and Bucky and the Avengers watching your six.  _No one_  most of all Brock is going to lay a finger on you."

Sam gave a small nod and Steve smiled.

"I'm guessing from that declaration Rogers that you have a plan." Bucky said from underneath his cap.

Steve turned on his knees to look at Bucky, "yeah, kill him."

Bucky snorted, "wait for it."

"No, let's not kill him." Sam's chimed in, voice soft.

Steve looked sharply at Sam, "what?" 

"And there it is." Bucky flipped up his cap back on his head and got up out of his seat to sit in the seat Steve had vacated.

"Why Sam? Why?" Steve was bewildered, "he's  _not_  going to stop until he has you. Let's solve that by killing him."

There was a moment of silence, two pairs of eyes staring hard at Sam.

"Is it possible to turn him?" Sam looked up at the two men in front of her.

"By turn him you mean..." Steve trailed off.

"Can we use him to get intel on Hydra?"

Steve and Bucky shared a look and then Bucky started cackling like a hyena.

"There's no way in hell Brock is going to turn on Hydra. He'd more likely try and turn  _you_. Maybe that's why he's so hell bent on getting you, a part from the fact that you're his soul-mate."

"Gee Buck, tell us what you really think." Steve glared at his best friend and soul-mate.

"I'm being serious here, Sam would make a great Hydra agent." Bucky looked between Sam and Steve's blank faces, "I mean it!" Sincerity was clearly written on his face, "maybe that's why Brock wants her so badly; maybe he sees what a fine agent she would make."

"Um...thanks, I think." Sam did not know what else to say to that.

"Ok, no one is turning Sam into a hydra agent." Steve said in his 'captain' voice, "that will only happen over my dead body and I don't plan on dying anytime soon. So we only have two options so far: turn Brock on Hydra or kill him."

"For the world's deadliest assassin, a super soldier and a soldier who flies using mechanical wings we sure do suck at coming up with plans on how to deal with one annoying man." Bucky grumbled.

Steve threw a cushion at Bucky's head and Sam went back to staring out the window, wondering if Bucky's words had any weight to them."

* * *

Jack slammed the passenger door shut to a nondescript, everyday SUV and glanced at the unconscious woman in the backseat.

"I hope you're right about this. We have literally just signed our death warrants."

Brock glanced at his friend, "don't worry, they won't try anything while we have her."

"I hope you're right, or else I'm kicking your ass in hell."

Brock grinned and drove off, leaving a black town car, with four severely punctured tyres and an unconscious driver in the front seat in his wake.   

* * *

Tony and Natasha were at his private airport to welcome their friends.

Steve got off first, followed by Sam and then Bucky, looking all types of menacing with his sniper rifle slung over the shoulder of his metal arm.

"Is that-" Tony whipped off his sunglasses with a dramatic flair to get a better look at Bucky's arm. " _Holy shit!_  That's a  _metal arm_." he spun to Natasha, taking her by her shoulders and shaking her, "he has a metal arm!" 

"Tony,  _no._  You're not a kid in a candy store, behave yourself." 

"Love of my life, this is a lot bigger than a candy store; this is my birthday _and_  Christmas morning wrapped together." Tony's eyes would not leave Bucky's arm and Natasha wondered if this was the day she became a widow in the marriage context. 

"Hey guys, so nice of you to come-" Steve's greeting was promptly cut off when Tony rushed pass him and Sam to grab Bucky's metal arm and Natasha readied herself to save her dumb-ass husband.

"This arm," Tony twisted Bucky's arm in his hands, not caring that it was attached to the world's most lethal assassin, "it may have been ahead of its time back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, but it is completely obsolete now."

"It didn't seem obsolete when he ripped my wing from my back." Sam grumbled and went to hug Natasha.

Bucky stared at Tony and then at Steve, "he really is Howard's child."

"That's enough Tony." Natasha called and Tony turned to her with a pout that she would not admit to finding adorable.

"But I want the metal arm." 

"You can't have it, it's not yours."

Tony turned to Bucky and as an assassin Bucky would not admit to being a little wary of the glint he saw in those whiskey coloured eyes.

"If you let me play with it, I can build you a  _much_ better, with  _lasers."_

"No!" Steve shouted.

"Ok." Bucky said and grinned.

Tony grinned as well and let of his arm, walking back over to his wife who was shaking her head.

"Sometimes I wonder why I married you."

Tony kissed her on her temple as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "because your life would be boring without me."

"With how exciting my life is, I wouldn't mind if it was sometimes boring."

"Liar, you would die from boredom."

Natasha smirked, "true."

* * *

Brock took the blind fold from over his captive's eyes only to be faced with a glare that  _promised_  a very painful death.

"I do hope you know that you have signed your death warrant." The woman hissed. 

Jack chuckled, "that's what I told him."

The woman paid him no mind, her eyes still on Brock who looked as cool as a cucumber. 

"We're not going to hurt  _you_ , we just need to get to Sam Wilson through you."

"What do you want with Sam?"

Brock smiled, "I'm her soul-mate."

The woman's face was blank at that revelation; she blinked and then blinked again before suddenly bursting out into belly cramping laughter. She doubled over in the chair they had tied her in and howled with laughter.

Brock and Jack shared a look.

"You find that funny?"

"I find it  _hilarious_  that you would think kidnapping me was a great idea Brock Rumlow."

"You know who I am?"

The woman looked at him as is he was an idiot and he felt mildly offended.

"Well after that S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra dumb agent Romanoff did on the internet I know who you both are." She looked between Brock and Jack. "However, I did not know of Sam's connection to you." She looked Brock up and down, a look of pure disgust on her face.

Jack stepped forward and crouched down in front of the lady to appear as non-threatening as possible, although the woman did not look fearful but pissed off.

"Listen all we need you to do is call Sam and let her know that we have you. We are willing to trade you for her."

"You do know that Sam is  _not_  going to go down without a fight?"

"Yes, that's why we took you." Brock chimed in. 

"Fine, release me and I will do it."

"No." Both men said at the same time.

The woman raised one elegant eyebrow, "ok, then we can wait and see how long it takes for them to realize I am missing and  _who_  took me. I can't say that Sam will be happy to hear it was you."

Brock and jack looked at each other.

"Release her." Brock said and tossed a knife to Jack who cut the plastic ties that held her to the chair in the abandoned warehouse they decided was secluded enough from prying eyes and open enough to avoid surprised attacks. 

The woman stood up and stretched her muscles, "I can't wait to see how this is going to turn out." She said as she accepted a burner cell phone from Jack.

* * *

"I mean Natasha turned, why would it be so impossible to turn Rumlow?" Tony asked as he dissected digital blue prints of Bucky's arm. 

"You weren't there. You didn't hear how gung-ho Rumlow was about Hydra." Sam said as she massaged her temples, a headache thudding in her head as a result from both stress and a lack of sleep.

"And why can't we kill him again?" Tony's eyes never left the blue print but Sam felt as if he was trying to dissect her based on his tone of voice.

"I didn't say we can't kill him," Sam sighed and dropped her head back on the couch in Tony's lab, "can we just leave killing as a last resort?"

"I hate to say this but I agree with Sam." All eyes turned to Natasha when she spoke. 

"You never liked the guy, I thought you would have jumped at the chance to get rid of him." Steve said from his position of leaning between Bucky's legs who was sitting on a table.

"Oh believe me, I  _want_  to kill him but Sam might be on to something; let's see if we can get any information on Hydra out of him, information that we more than likely might not have and if we can't get anything from him, we keep him prisoner until he's ready to divulge what he knows and when he has outlast his usefulness we get rid of him."

There was a sharp glint in Natasha's eye when she was finishing saying her piece, both Steve and Bucky looked unnerved, Sam was now holding a cold compress to her head and Tony, well Tony was trying very hard not to jump his wife in front of their friends.

"My God you're scary." He commented. "I want to have your babies."

Natasha smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Dear God, I have cavities." Bucky said dryly.

Tony flipped him off, "you're just jealous because your soul-mate is not a bad ass like mine."

"My soul-mate is  _Captain America_." Bucky pointed out.

"Exactly. Case closed."

Bucky was about to say something but was cut off by Jarvis.

_"Excuse me Mr. Stark, Miss Potts is on the phone."_

"Put her through Jarvis."

_"Tony?"_

"Pepper! My other favourite person right after my lovely wife." He winked at Natasha. "How are you?"

_"Kidnapped."_

The room came to a screeching halt. Everyone was deadly quiet and still.

"Care to repeat that for me Pepper." Tony's voice was oddly calm and that always spelled trouble. Only the people closest to Tony knew that when he was really calm during a serious situation, that is when he should be most feared, like right now. 

 _"I said I was 'kidnapped.'"_  Pepper repeated.

"By whom?"

Pepper snorted,  _"Brock Rumlow."_

Sam flew to her feet, cold compress falling to the ground forgotten and the room erupted into pandemonium.

"Fuck it, we're killing him." Steve said.

Natasha cocked a gun that she got from only God knows where, "I second that." 

"I'm going to tear him limb from limb." Tony snarled, "and I'm going to leave some of him for Rhodey, when he finds out that piece of shit kidnapped his _wife_."

"Did he hurt you?" Steve's voice drowned out Tony's. 

_"No, no he and his accomplice Jack Rollins-"_

"Rollins is there?! Oh my God! This is just going from bad to worse."

Sam remained silent in all this, staring at the floor but not seeing anything.

"What does he want Pepper?" Her voice, even though it was quiet, it still got the attention of everyone in the room.

There was a sigh and then,  _"you. He wants you and is willing to trade me for you."_

Sam looked heavenward as if asking for the strength and patience to deal with this new shit storm.

"Put the phone on speaker, please Pepper."

 _"Hello Sam, how are you doing?"_  Brock sounded smug.

"What is wrong with you Rumlow? What did you think you'd achieve by kidnapping Pepper?" Sam was tired, physically and mentally. 

_"Well I'm speaking to you right now and I imagine that in a few hours you will be standing in front of me."_

"You sound so sure of yourself Rumlow." Bucky finally decided to add to the conversation. 

_"Sergeant Barnes, you're partly to blame for this current situation we're in."_

Tony eyes Bucky, curious as to what Brock was talking about.

"Really? How so?" 

_"Well if he hadn't rescued Sam, I would have already had her and no need of kidnapping Miss Potts."_

"Cut the bullshit Rumlow," Steve snarled, "how do we know you won't kill Pepper once you have Sam?"

_"Believe it or not, I'm a man of my word; I say I won't harm a hair on Miss Potts head as long I get Sam and I won't."_

"And if I refuse to trade myself for Pepper, then what?"

All eyes were on Sam when she asked that question.

There was a laugh over the phone line,  _"we all know you won't refuse Sam. Everyone knows that you're going to give yourself up so that Miss Potts can get back home to her soul-mate, so it's just a matter of the meeting time and location."_

"Smug asshole." Natasha muttered.

"Rumlow hold a minute."

Jarvis had put the call on hold before Brock had a chance to reply.

"We have to give him something guys." Sam's eyes were pleading for ideas.

No one offered up any suggestions when a light bulb went off over Sam's head.

"Jarvis put Rumlow back on."

_"Right away Sergeant Wilson."_

"Rumlow? You there?"

"Yes, Sam."

"Ok, here's the deal: you want me; I will spend one day with you."

There was silence and Sam looked at everyone in the room who were staring back at her. 

_"One month."_

"Hell no." Steve snapped and Sam held up a hand for silence.

" _One week; every other week_." Take it or leave it Brock." 

The final offer was met with silence and Sam looked at the faces around her, varying from worried to downright angry. She had hoped that the use of his first name would assist in the agreeing to this deal; let him think that they are on equal footing.

"Ok, one week, every other week."

"And you have to give up Hydra intel."

There was such a deafening silence on the phone that Sam thought the call had dropped.

"You drive a hard bargain Wilson."

"Just give me your damn answer Rumlow." Sam growled wanting to end this conversation and get back Pepper.

"Ok, one week, every other week and I will give you intel on Hydra." 

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe he's not  _that_ gun-ho about Hydra." Tony muttered.

" _However,"_  everyone in the room tensed when Brock started to speak, “where the Hydra intel is concerned, I will give you information  _once_  a week and only during the week you spend with me."

Sam reared back at that.

"Fuck that bullshit!" Bucky shouted, Sam ignored him in favour of pacing back and forth, her hands clenching into fists. 

Brock chuckled, "take it or leave it Sam." He threw her words back at her and Sam had no other choice but to catch them.

"Ok." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "One week, every other week and Hydra intel once a week; _only_ during the week I spend with you."

"I feel like I should have my lawyers draw up a contract." Tony mumbled.

However, all Sam could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, knowing deep down she was about to sell her soul with her next six words. "Ok, where do I meet you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's parents were killed in a regular car accident. Bucky did not kill them. I have no time for that side drama, when Brock is being an asshole and needs to be dealt with.
> 
> Also, Sebastian at last weekend's comic-con hinted that Bucky might be in Black Panther...I hope that happens and I hope it's much more than just a cameo. "Fingers crossed*


	4. Sinner Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...I ran to the devil, he was waitin'  
> I ran to the devil, he was waitin'  
> Ran to the devil, he was waitin'..."
> 
> Song by Nina Simone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story since the start. 
> 
> Thank you!!! 
> 
> All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

The clock on the dash board read  **4:25 P.M.**

Sam was trying not to fidget or tap her foot to show how nervous she was. She did not want to worry her friends, because they would scrap the deal made by her and Brock and go in guns blazing to rescue Pepper. She kept telling herself by doing this they would be getting valuable information, but a little voice in the back of her head kept calling her a liar for lying to herself.

  
Sam, Natasha and Steve arrived at the underground parking lot at exactly 4:30 P.M. as directed by Brock. Sam was in the back of Natasha's sport's car staring up at the car roof when she felt the car come to a stop. She sat up and stuck her head in the space between the two front seats and looked through the windscreen. 

There parked about ten feet away as a black  _Range Rover_  with both Brock and Jack leaning against the side of it.

Sam breathed out, feeling nauseous.

"You don't have to do this." Steve looked at her, concern pouring from his blue eyes. "We can always find another way to get back Pepper."

"There's not another way. Even if we get her back, he will just grab another person close to me. Let's just give him what he wants."

"Ok." Steve nodded, "ok."

Sam steeled herself for what was to come and made to to get out of the car when Natasha spun around and grabbed her hand. She slid something small and black into Sam's palm which she realized was an ear-piece. 

"I don't care what he says about not contacting us. The moment he does something that makes you uncomfortable or if you just want to leave and get away from him, you call me and I  _will_  come get you."

Sam looked up at Natasha, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you and I will."

Natasha squeezed her hand before allowing her to leave the vehicle.

Sam walked halfway to Brock and stopped.

Jack opened the back door and out stepped Pepper, unharmed but exhausted. She smiled when she saw Sam and started walking towards her. 

Sam stayed where she was as Pepper approached her and pulled her into a hug when she was close enough.

Pepper buried her face in Sam's neck, letting a few tears escape her eyes and wet Sam's shirt.

"Thank you so much. I  _am_  sorry, but thank you so much. You didn't have to do this."

Sam pulled back and looked Pepper in her eyes. "Yes, I had to do this."

Pepper smiled and hugged her again.

"Ok, now go; get out of here before Brock pulls another dirty trick."

Pepper broke the hug and squeezed Sam's hands in parting, "stay safe Sam."

She watched as Pepper walked to Natasha's car and get into the backseat, however, she made no move herself to go to Brock; instead she stood watching her friends. 

Steve and Natasha tensed watching Sam, wondering if she had changed her mind. 

"What's she doing?" 

"I don't know."

Steve was tensing for a fight when Sam raised a hand and made a 'shooing' motion.

He relaxed minimally at that, "she wants us to leave first," he breathed.

"Do we?" Natasha's eyes were narrowed watching her.

"Yes." 

Natasha threw the car into reverse and left.

Sam watched the tail lights of the car disappear before she turned and continued walking towards her soul-mate, feeling as if she was walking to the gallows.

"You do realize that you have made an enemy of  _all_  the Avengers for kidnapping Pepper and using me as ransom for her?" She asked when she got closer to the two men. "The only reason you're not dead yet is because I haven't given them the kill order."

Brock looked Sam up and down and she felt her skin crawl with revulsion. He smiled lazily, "well I thought about kidnapping your mother but I don't think that would have made for a good first impression for how she meets your soul-mate."

"If you had gone after my mother,  _she_ would have killed you." Sam smiled maliciously, "don't be fooled by her kind, sweet smile, my mother is a force to be reckoned with and she would have sliced your throat open without a second thought."

The smile on Brock's face faded with the knowledge that Sam was not joking; she was fucking serious. 

Jack laughed at that and Sam looked at him.

"Don't think I have forgotten about what you did, you tall ass motherfucker." 

Jack looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You shot at me." Sam clarified.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"Oh really now? Then why the hell were you shooting at me that night you attacked me in my house?" Sam crossed her arms over her chest and staring up at 6'2" Jack unflinchingly.

"I wasn't trying to shoot you. I was trying to shoot Barnes." Jack said staring her down.

"And that makes it so much better?"

Jack opened his mouth but Brock cut him off, "hey, can we continue this little argument somewhere else a part from an underground parking lot?"

Sam looked at him and smirked malevolently, "I thought you liked being underground, what with you being a snake."

"Your soul-mate sure is tiny spitfire." 

"Shut up!" Sam and Brock said at the same time and Jack held up his hands in surrender. 

"Find, let's get out of here." Jack said and opened the front passenger door for Sam to get in the car and she looked at him, disgust clearly written on her face."

She turned and walked to the back, hitting Brock with her backpack slung over her shoulder and opened the backdoor, hitting Brock with it and then slammed it shut.

Both men were silent for a little.

"I am starting to regret helping you get to her," Jack said, eyes wide, "she's so violent for a tiny person. I look forward to being the best man at your wedding."

Brock rolled his eyes, "get in the damn truck."

The car was silent and tense as Brock drove to God knows where. Sam had kept her mouth shut and eyes out the window once they started driving and the two men were smart enough not to say anything to her. 

They had been driving for a while until they pulled up at a set of modern apartments in an attractive and affluent part of town and the car came to a stop.

"Well this is me." Jack opened his door and for out, turning to look at Brock. "Thanks for the ride."

"Sure thing man."

He then turned to look at Sam, "please don't kill him."

Sam snorted.

"I know he's an ass."

"Hey!" Brock objected to the insult his friend made about him.

"But deep down,  _way deep down_  he has a decent heart."

Sam rolled her eyes so hard that she gave herself a headache.

"Ok, I'll see you when I see you Brock." And with that Jack left and Brock waited until he was in the lobby of the apartment building before driving off.

"My mother always said to surround yourself with people who wait until you are safely inside your house before driving off." Sam commented.

Brock looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror, but she resolutely kept her eyes turned out the window.

"My father always said not to drive off until whoever I am dropping off was safe behind their closed door."

Sam snorted, "well  _my closed door_  didn't keep me safe from you did it?"

There was nothing he could say to that and remained quiet.

Silence reigned in the car for another fifteen minutes until Sam realized they were driving out of the city and she sat up in alarm.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" "We're going to my cabin."

"Your  _cabin?_ Don't you have a place within the city?"  _And close to my friends._  Sam thought.

"I have always hated the city. Too much noise and smog. I got enough of that in the army and in my job." Brock seemed to think about what he said, "or at least I used to." He amended. "I needed somewhere quiet, peaceful and relaxing, and so I bought a very nice cabin outside the city. I'm sure you will like it, lots of open space."

"Oh my God." Sam laughed and shook her head. "Oh man, you are something else Rumlow." She finally,  _finally_ looked at him and he saw nothing but pure hate in her eyes.

"You'll be lucky if I don't set it on fire with  _you in there_."

"Well please don't do that; I worked very hard to get it looking like it does now."

They drove for another twenty minutes until Brock turned onto a private road and Sam sat up again, putting down the window in order to stick her head out of it.

On either sides of the road were flowers,  _numerous flowers_  of different colours and species.

Sam was speechless, at the sheer beauty before her eyes and they all looked well cared for.

"Do you like them?" Brock asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Yeah, very much." Sam answered distractedly.

Brock grinned, "well you haven't seen anything yet. Look ahead."

Sam turned her head, " _holy shit._ It's like a picture from a story book."

They drove up to Brock's cabin which was  _surrounded_  with numerous flowers. The lawn was a healthy green and the flowers of many different colours showed that they were well cared for. 

Brock parked the car and Sam opened the door and stepped out, mesmerized by the sheer beauty that laid before her eyes.  She walked along the brick pathway to take a closer look at the blue Bell-flowers, Bluebells, Forget Me Nots, blue Freesias, with yellow Daffodils scattered among the blue flowers, which lined the pathway on either side.

Under the windows on both sides, at the front of the cabin there were flower bed with Tulips and Orchids of many different colours.

Sam was about to go further when she perked up and looked around. 

"Do you hear that?" She turned to Brock, "it sounds like running water."

Brock grinned and tiled his head, "go around the side."

Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"Trust me, you'll like what you see."

She didn't say anything and walked around the side, Brock trailing behind her and was proud as a peacock when he heard her gasp of surprise.

There was a small water fountain that had water lilies in it. To one side of the fountain were  _tall_  Sunflowers, taller than Sam and standing over it, providing shade to rest in, was a beautiful Cherry Blossom tree which was in full bloom. 

"Like it?"

Sam turned to face Brock who had a shy smile on his face.

"You did all this?" She pointed at the water fountain disbelief colouring her voice.

Pride swelled in Brock's chest, "yes, I did."

"Guess you're not just good at destroying people's lives." Sam said as she walked pass him and she took glee in the smile dropping from his face. 

"Face of angel with the tongue of the devil." He muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Sam spun around to face Brock, and eyebrow raised, daring him to repeat what he said.

"Nothing." His voice was high and he cleared his throat, "nothing, I didn't say anything."

"That's what I thought."

Sam grabbed her bag from the SUV and made her way to where Brock already had the door open. He allowed her enter first and followed after her, closing and the locking the door. He saw her flinch when he did that but said nothing.

"So how do you like it?" he had spread his arms to encompass the shiny expensive wooden floors, the open kitchen, dining room and living room floor plan. The kitchen had floor to ceiling windows which looked out at a backyard filled with flowers, the counter tops were black marble and the oven and stove almost made Sam orgasm. She  _loved_  to cook and bake but she kept her facial expressions in check. The dining table was big enough to seat twelves persons comfortably with padded seats. And the couches in the living room were big and looked comfortable as hell. 

"The outside looks better." She commented with a bored expression when she really loved the decor but was not going to give her enemy the satisfaction of knowing she she likes his home. 

"I know you mean that as an insult but I will take it as a compliment; my garden is my pride and joy."

Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That's great. Now where's my room?"

Brock smirked, "I like your no-nonsense attitude."

"Just show me to my fucking room."

Brock led the way upstairs which was just as airy and light as downstairs. 

"This here is my room, he gestured to a room which was painted in muted tones of brown and beige." He spun around and threw open the door to the room right across from his and Sam deflated.

"Really? You couldn't have given me a room down the hall?"

"Trust me, you may hate the location right now, but once you step inside you are going to  _love_  it."

"I  _doubt_  it." Sam mocked Brock and stepped pass him, she threw her bag on the bed and took in the decor. The whole room was painted in varying shades of blue and she felt a pang in her chest remembering the Blue of Riley's eyes and how he would have been laughed his ass off at Sam's current predicament before whisking her away so that Brock could not get anywhere near her. The bed looked very comfortable with the royal blue comforter on it and white pillow cases with blue flowers printed on them. There was a vase of fresh sunflowers sitting on the bureau in the room, which she gravitated towards instantly.

"Did you investigate me to find out my favourite flower or is this just a coincidence?" 

"Pure coincidence. Sun flowers always seem to light up a room." Brock sounded closer and Sam spun around to see that he had entered the room,  _her_  room and was sitting on  _her_  bed. 

Sam hummed and moved towards the window seat and looked out, only to discover that her room looked out over the water fountain, with the water lilies, sunflowers and cherry blossom tree.  _'Fucking bastard was right. I love this room,'_ she thought.  

Suddenly in the silence of the room there was a loud gurgling sound and Sam looked down at her stomach when the sound was made again. 

"And that's my cue to go make dinner." Brock said, rising from the bed. "I'll see you downstairs in an hour." It was a statement but it sounded more like a question.

Sam nodded absently, "sure."

Brock left without a word and Sam took a seat on the bed, folding over at the waist to rest her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

"Lord, give me patience and peace because if I ask for strength, I will be needing a shovel and an alibi." 

* * *

An hour later Sam made her way into the kitchen where Brock was finishing up dinner and she couldn't help her mouth salivating at the delicious smells wafting in the air.

"Smells good." She took a seat at the kitchen island.

Brock smiled, "thanks. It's grilled steak with mashed potatoes and fresh vegetable salad." He dished out servings onto two plates, placing one in front of Sam and the other across from her.

"What would you like to-"

"Anything alcoholic." Sam cut him off and Brock raised an eyebrow at her.

She was going to need all the alcohol she could safely consume and not end up with alcohol poisoning if she was to get through this meal.

"Is beer ok?"

"Sure."

He took two beers out of the fridge and sat down across from Sam, opening both bottles in full view of her. 

Sam watched his hands like a hawk and accepted her beer when he gave it to her.

"Bon appetit." 

Sam watched as Brock took a bite of his food, chewed and swallowed. He looked at her then down at her food and back to her.

"Problem with the food?"

"You tried twice to sedate me and kidnap me; do you really think I am going to eat what you cook just so?"

Brock reached across and brought her plate closer to him, take a bite of everything on it.

"See not spiked with anything."

Sam was still looking at him with open distrust but started eating. She had to bite back a moan as the flavour from the steak burst over her tongue. 

It was quiet in the cabin, just the sound of their cutlery scraping against their plates. Sam felt Brock's eyes on her but she kept her eyes rooted firmly on her food, never looking up at him.

Apparently Brock had had enough of the silence and decided to break it.

"How's the food?"

"Good."

"Do you cook?"

"Yup."

"What do you like to cook?"

"Food."

"Oh my -" Brock dropped his knife and fork with a clatter, "that's all you have? One worded answers?"

Sam calmly looked up at Brock, before she proceeded to place her knife and fork down on her plate, she rested her hands flat on the island and opened her mouth, "Samantha Tessa Wilson, 23091978."

Brock stared at her, " _fuck you_  Wilson. I'm just trying to make conversation."

Sam snorted and rolled her eyes, taking a drink of her beer.

"Do you make 'conversation' with all your hostages?"

"You're not my-"

"I'm not?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "you see, you're giving us intel on Hydra on the basis that I spend a week with you ever other week. I may not be with you the entire time and you may not treat me as a regular hostage, but the fact of the matter is that I am still your hostage."

Sam drained her entire full bottle of beer in one go all the while maintaining eye contact with Brock who had yet to deny what she said as anything but the truth. 

"Ok, ok," Brock dragged a hand down his face and pushed himself away from the island, "how about we lay down some ground rules -"

"I have a rule: Rule #1) no touching, talking or even looking at me for the week that I am here, and stay out of my room."

"Ok, here's another one: Rule #2) stop cutting me off when I am trying to speak."

"You should be happy that the only thing I've cut so far are you words."

Sam leaned back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest and levelling Brock with a look that screamed she wanted to kill him.

"Wow, you know you whole quiet, unassuming demeanour really belies your vicious personality."

Sam smirked, "Never judge a book by its cover."

"You should probably take your own advice and don't judge me until you have gotten to know me." 

Sam placed her hands flat on the island and leaned forward, "you are rotten, inside and out Rumlow, and make no mistake I am not here to get to know you, I'm just here to get the Hydra intel as promised in our hostage negotiations."

"Hostage neg-" Brock laughed and shook his head, "you're a real piece of work." 

He got up and went in the living out of Sam's sight but she could hear paper rustling and wondered what he was doing. A few seconds later he came back into the kitchen and dropped a manila folder in front of Sam.

"There's your intel. Do with it what you want, but for the rest of your time here can you try to be at least a bit civil towards me?"

"You're a funny guy Rumlow, that's basically asking me to pin a cloud to the ground."

Brock gave her an unimpressed look. 

"You want a lot out of life but you're not going to be getting anything from me." Sam sat back in her seat, took up the folder and started reading.

"Happy reading." Brock mumbled as he grabbed another beer and stalked off to do God knows what."

* * *

_"Riley!"_

_Sam dived down, stretching out her hand to her falling friend, trying to grab him only for her fingers to slip through his body every time she grasped him._

_She could only stare in horror as his body hit the hard sand and shattered into millions of little pieces and when she looked at her hands, she saw that they were covered in blood and started screaming._

Sam flew up out of her sleep, soaked in sweat, a scream on her lips and pounding at her bedroom door.  

"SAM! SAM!"

She became of where she was and why someone was pounding at her door.

The door handle jiggled but it did not open and then there was a much louder thud as if someone had thrown their body against it in hopes of breaking it down. But Sam looked at her handy work of blocking it with the dresser in her bedroom.

"SAM! Open up! I heard screaming are you ok?!"

Sam slowly swung her legs over the side of her bed, allowing the coolness of the wooden floor to ground her.

"I'm-" her voice was raspy from all the screaming she did while dreaming and had to start again.

"I'm ok, stop banging on the door Rumlow, you're giving me a headache."

The pounding stopped and Sam was grateful for it.

"I heard screaming Sam and I can't get the door to open."

"It was just a dream and I blocked the door, so you wouldn't be able to get in while I slept."

There was a moment of silence where Sam thought Brock had left but knew that was too much to hope when she heard his voice again.

"You  _blocked_  the door? I may be a former Hydra agent but even I have some morals. I would not come into your room while you slept."

Something in his voice made Sam believe but she still was going to take any chances. 

"Can you unblock it and let me in?"

Sam had just taken off her sweat soaked shirt when he asked this ans she whipped around to look at the still barricaded door, holding her shirt against her chest to shield her nudity as if Brock was able to see through the closed door and into her room.

"What?! No! No entering my room; it's a rule. Along with no talking to me." 

"Stop being so damn stubborn Wilson and open the fucking door so that I know you're ok."

"I am ok. I don't need you checking on me. It was a damn dream, get over it." Sam just wanted to go take a shower and go back to bed.

"That was a fucking  _nightmare_  you were having Sam; I thought you were being murdered."

Sam rolled her eyes at his dramatics, "well I am still alive, so go away and leave me alone." 

She heard a huff of breath through the closed door and then the sound of retreating footsteps and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. 

"Fuck!" She stripped off the rest of her clothes and went to shower off the sweat and remnants of the nightmare of her dead best friend. 

* * *

 

Sam woke the next morning to while the sun was still below the horizon, and after making sure Brock was still asleep, she went for a run. There was already a man-made path, no doubt made by Brock which she ran along, running faster and faster, her feet beating down on the earth and her muscles burned. When she returned to the cabin it was quiet but Brock's room door was open when she walked by and she saw that the bed was neatly made but not military neat.  He was nowhere to be seen or heard in the cabin, not that Sam minded as she went and took a hot and  _very_ long shower, only turning off the water when it ran ice cold. 

Brock made have been a Hydra asshole but he had some damn good  _expensive_  coffee that Sam was currently sipping on the back porch. She sat on the porch swing, her beautiful toned legs stretchered out in front of her, resting on the porch rail. She was enjoying the peace and quiet and the nature surrounding her when she almost choked on her coffee.

Brock had just broken the treeline and was heading in the direction of the cabin.

He was shirtless, showing off his muscular torso and sun-kissed skin.

He was shirtless...dripping wet..., his hair was wet and hanging down over his forehead and his swimming trunks were clinging to his powerful toned thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Sam knew she was salivating over her enemy, but  _damn_  he was  _fine!_

He had yet to spot her and she knew she was safe as she allowed her eyes to roam over his almost naked body and took in everything he had on display. As he got closer she averted her eyes and put on an expression of indifference. 

"Good morning." He greeted when he was now standing on the porch.

"If it was a 'good morning' I would be at home right now drinking my own coffee." 

Brock did not rise to the bait.

"Have you eaten as yet?"

"No."

"Ok, when I get out of the shower, I'll make us breakfast."

"Whatever Rumlow."

Sam smiled wickedly to herself when she was once again by herself; Brock had a nasty surprise waiting on him.

She started laughing when she heard his scream of surprise, no doubt he had just stepped under an ice cold spray of water, thinking that it was hot.

**"SAM!"**

Sam was relishing in her little surprise when Brock appeared suddenly beside her, freshly wet with a fluffy white towel wrapped low around his waist, which he held onto with one hand. The look on his face was murderous.

"Yes, Rumlow?" Sam smiled innocently, while on the inside she had the sudden urge to suck a bruise on his hip bone and had to calm her damn hormones.

 _I know he looked delicious but he is the fucking enemy! Calm yourself!_ She mentally reminded herself. 

"Rule #3: Do. Not. Use. All. The. Hot. Water."

"I make no promises."

Brock narrowed his eyes at her before he stalked off and Sam could not help but stare at his ass as he walked away smiling to herself.

"Wilson 1; Rumlow 0."

* * *

The days flew by fairly quickly and Sam was not complaining. She had a count down on her phone going for the days left until she would be back home with her friends.

Brock again had tried to start conversations with her, but he was ignored. Seeming to have finally given up for the fifth day in a row, he went outside to tend to his garden. He had watered, fertilized, transferred, weeded and even mowed the grass. Sam paid him no mind, not caring what he did as long as he did not harass her.

However, she was only human and so that's how she found herself staring at a shirtless Brock, with sweat glistening on his skin as his adam apple bobbed while drinking from his water bottle. She came back to her senses when she realized she was licking her lips and day dreaming about tracing his well-defined abs with her tongue.

Sam delivered a hard slap to her cheek in order to snap out of her lustful haze. 

 _This is what happens when I have not been laid in a long time; I lust after my drop-dead sexy enemy. Get it together Sam; you're stronger than your lady parts. I hope he gets a severe sunburn._  

She thought viciously. 

Sam retreated to the safety of her bedroom and pulled out the phone Natasha had given her, pressing speed-dial 1 and listening to it as it rang, pacing back and forth. 

 _"Hey Sam,"_  Steve greeted, _"we're a little busy over here."_

"I'm guessing the intel Brock provided is valid." Sam heard the sound of gunfire and explosions in the background.

_"Yes, it did. You would not believe the atrocities that we found."_

"I can imagine." Sam fell backwards on her bed and star fished across it.

_"Listen, Sam I have to call you back later. Bucky is currently, taking on ten guys by himself and I at least need one of them alive."_

"Ok, later."

The call was disconnected and Sam threw her phone on the bedside. She was feeling lonely; she missed her friends, home, job and co-workers. She couldn't wait for the week to be up and then she would be free of Brock for another week. As soon as the week was up, she would be going back home to D.C, tough for Brock whose home was here.

Sam rolled over onto her side and curled up.

"Two more days. Just two more days."

She chanted that as she fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

When Sam awoke it was with a scream on her lips and covered in sweat; her heart was pounding its way out of her chest and she could hardly catch her breath. Looking around the room Sam saw that it was dark and realized that she had slept throughout the previous day.

She was dimly aware that she would be going back home the next day, as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed, stumbling a little until she found her footing and made her way to the kitchen knowing that she would not be falling back asleep for the rest of the night.

Sam watched as the sun came up through the floor to ceiling windows in the kitchen and had not moved from her spot, even when Brock finally made his way down a few hours later. 

She knew that she looked like the walking dead and she was slumped over a cup of tea, trying with all her might to burn a hole into the kitchen counter from how hard she was staring at it.

"Rough night?"

"Don't even start." Sam's voice sounded horrible.

Brock would have been surprised if it has sounded normal after all the screaming he had heard coming from her room in the early morning.

"Don't you have a therapist of your own that you go to? Even therapists needs therapists."

Sam ran frustrated fingers through her hair, "I swear to God Brock  _shut the hell up._ "

Brock's back was to Sam, so he had no idea how irritated Sam was from a lack of sleep, plus being fed up of being in this fucked up situation. He was unaware of the storm brewing so when he said what he said next, he had no idea of the hell fire that was about to be unleashed on him.

"Riley's been dead for five years, don't you think it's time to stop screaming yourself awake over a ghost?"

Brock did not stand a chance, when he turned around he only felt when Sam's foot connected with his jaw, sending him crashing down to the floor.

Sam was on him before he got a chance to regain his breath. She straddled his waist and began raining down punches to his face until he was able to block a few and bucked throwing her off of him. That however, did not slow her down as she immediately got back up on her feet and grabbed a knife from the knife block on the kitchen counter.

She was seeing nothing but red in her vision and she wanted to see Brock  _bleed_.

"Hey, now Sam," Brock stretched out his hand as if he was calming a wild animal who could tear out his throat at any given moment, "put that down so no one gets hurt. I just sharpened them yesterday and we don't need any accidents happening."

Sam cocked her head to the side in thought.

"When I slice you open with your own knife, it  _won't_  be an  _accident_."

Without warning she lunged. 

Brock barely dodged her attack, still dazed from the punches he had received.

Sam continued to attack, backing Brock into a corner, until he realized what she was doing and kicked her in her chest hard, making her fall on her back. He was on her in seconds; his grip tight on her wrist, squeezing hard until she dropped the knife and he shoved it away from them only for Sam to use that small distraction to gain the upper hand again.

She head-butted him and he fell off her in pain.

Rolling to her feet Sam got up and looked down on Brock who was holding his head in pain.

"Rule #4:" she delivered five kicks to Brock's midsection to emphasize her words, "Don't. Ever. Speak. Riley's. Name."

Brock rolled over onto his stomach in order to shield himself which Sam took full advantage of; she pinned him to the floor, grabbing him by his hair and pulling _hard_  forcing his head back and baring his venerable throat. He stopped fighting when he felt the cool, sharp blade of a knife press against the think flesh.

Sam leaned over so that she could speak into his ear.

"The only reason your throat hasn't been cut opened right now, is because you are useful. I only agreed to this deal to get information on Hydra, nothing else. I don't want get to know you; you're the scum on the bottom of my shoes."

Brock swallowed, feeling his adam apple roll against the sharp edge of the blade. 

"But the day you stop being useful," Sam let out a dark chuckle which sent fear shooting through Brock, "I  _will_  put you down like the dog that you are."

With that said, Sam let go off his hair and stood up. She walked away leaving a stunned Brock, face down on the floor. 

"Be happy I only have one more day with you; I should kill you for what you said."

* * *

Sam stayed locked in her room for the rest of the day; not leaving it even to eat. She barely slept that night, knowing that she would be going home in a few hours, but also knew that within a week's time she would be with Brock again. And no matter how much she tried to push the thought out of her head, she could not help but wonder how long this arrangement would last for.

Around noon, on the day she would be leaving, Sam finally made her way to the kitchen for some food. Brock was nowhere to be seen which she was extremely grateful for, because she had no idea how she would react if she saw his face right now. 

She was still mad as hell over his words. Who did he think he was saying that to her, when he has no doubt himself, been the cause of many families grief, by murdering their loved ones on Hydra's behalf. As she walked passed a window in the living room she saw Brock outside staring down at one of his many flower beds and even from this distance, Sam could see the damage she had done to his face and felt a sort of sick satisfaction.

Continuing on her way to the kitchen Sam decided to fix herself a fruit salad and was in the middle of eating when Brock walked in and stopped dead in his tracks. Sam paid him no mind as she continued eating.

"Umm..." 

Sam looked lazily at Brock who was scratching the back of his neck in what Sam would assume was equal parts nervousness and embarrassment.

"I want to apologize for what I said last night. I was extremely out of line and I did deserve having my ass kicked and to show how sorry I am, I am willing to let you go back home before our time with each other is up today."

"Wow, how generous of you." Was Sam's dry comment.

Brock looked frustrated at that. 

"Look Sam, I'm trying to make up for what I said last night and as the saying goes 'actions speak louder than words' so please don't fight me on this."

Sam looked at Brock and then pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and pressed 1 on her speed dial.

"Hey, pick me up in the parking garage; Brock's taking me home early."

She paused and was listening to whoever it was that she called on the other end and snorted making Brock raise an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you later, just be there." She ended the call. "Let's go now."

"Ok."

* * *

Brock had used the same route he had when he picked up Sam that first day, to take her back home; so Sam was not surprised when they were pulling up at Jack's apartment to see him already outside waiting for them.

When he got into the passenger side seat he did a double take at Brock's face.

"What the fuck happened to your face?!"

Brock sighed as he pulled out of the apartment's gate and back onto the main road.

"I crossed a line I shouldn't have and got my ass handed to me for it."

" _Crossed a line?"_

Jack spun and around and looked at Sam in alarm, before spinning back to look at Brock.

"What line did you cross?"

What  _line_  did he cross?" This was directed to Sam, who was surprised to hear the concern in Jack's tone.

"He said something he shouldn't have, hence the bruises."

"Yeah, she almost sliced me open with a kitchen knife."

"And you would have deserved it.  What the hell did you say to her?"

"Nothing." 

Sam said at the same time Brcok said, "drop it."

Jack held his hands up in surrender.

"Ok, consider it dropped."

The rest of the journey was done in silence. 

When they arrived at the parking garage Steve and Bucky waiting and Sam flew out of the car as soon as it came to stop and ran to Bucky with a big smile on her face, who caught her, lifted her up and spun her around with an equally big smile on his face.

"Look at your hair! I love it!" Sam tussled Bucky's short hair.

"Thanks. I got tired of it constantly getting in my face."

Steve was smiling at his friends and couldn't help but tease.

"So what am I? Chopped liver? Where's my hug?"

Bucky put Sam back on the ground where she was immediately again lifted off her feet into a tight hug by Steve, which she returned.

"You have no idea how much I missed you guys." She whispered into his ear and felt him tighten his hold on her in response.

A few feet from them, Brock looked at the trio in open jealously. He knew that Bucky had tried to kill Sam at least twice back when he was still Hydra's asset, yet she ran to him with open arms. He couldn't help but feel anger at that.

Something which Bucky took notice of and decided to rub into his face by wrapping his arm low around Sam's waist and whispered something in her ear which made her look back at him with disdain clearly written on her delicate and beautiful features.

Whatever her answer was, it pissed off both Steve and Bucky as they immediately looked back at him with hatred in their eyes.

It irritated Brock so much that he did not think before he spoke.

"Getting a little too close there to  _my_  soul-mate  _Asset_ , you may want to step back a bit."

Brock relished in the murderous look in Bucky's eyes before he did the unthinkable.

He could only watch as Bucky grabbed Sam and spun her around, tilting her head up and lowering his to capture her mouth in one if the filthiest and steamiest kiss Brock had ever witnessed. And Sam didn't even fight him; she just wrapped her arms around his shoulder bringing him even closer while Steve looked on in shock.

And Brock, he saw red.

"You fucking cunt! Get away from her!"

He pulled out a gun he had and in the next second, Bucky had pushed Sam behind him to shield her and had two guns of his own pointed at Brock, a smug look on his face. 

"Whoa! Hey!"

Sam objected, only to look around Bucky's broad body to see Brock aiming a gun at him.

"Put your gun down!" She shouted at Brock.

"Tell him to put his down!" Brock shouted back.

"Bucky!" Sam hit him between his shoulder blades but the two men ignored their friends and continued with their Mexican standoff. 

"Hey," Jack stepped forward and stood in front of Brock, blocking him, "we're in a  _very_  public place and it wouldn't do you any favours if you were to shoot your soul-mate's friend no matter how much of an asshole he is; so just put your gun down, get back in the car and drive away."

Brock did nothing at first, but Jack stared him down until he re-holstered his gun.

"I'll be seeing you in a week's time Sam, don't forget."

He got back in the car, never taking his eyes off Bucky and drove off.

"What the hell was that?!"

Bucky turned to look at Sam, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Just showing Brock how close we are."

Sam was not amused. 

"That was not was not a smart move Bucky."

"Yeah, it really wasn't," Steve said, "you should have at least grabbed her ass while you  were at it."

Sam punched his arm hard but it did not affect him.

 _'Damn super soldier'_ she thought.

"Seriously though Bucky, you almost started a fire fight; that can't happen again."

Sam nodded her head in agreement and Bucky looked properly chastised.

"Fine. I'm sorry Sam."

"Apology accepted. Now get me out of here. I have  _a lot_  to tell you all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's service number is the birth date of Sam Wilson, SEPTEMBER 23, 1978.
> 
> I think the military now uses a person's social security number as their service number, which I know nothing about so I choose to use the character's birthday. 
> 
> The format is DD/MM/YYYY


	5. Not Going Down Without A Fight (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't come here to start a fight, but I'm up for anything tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had shit-tastic week. I have not been well since last week Saturday and I had to deal with idiots, assholes and this bitch with an attitude at work all week, hence I thought that you all should have a little gift. With that said, please note that I am again posting another piece of work while under the influence of severe pains and very strong painkillers, so forgive me if somethings do not make sense (hopefully that is not the case).
> 
> I enjoy writing and seeing the feedback that you all have, whether it's how much you love the story or the constructive criticism which I appreciate as it helps in making me a better writer.
> 
> If you see any please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

 

"He said  _what?!_ "  Steve was pissed as hell about what Brock had said to Sam.

Sam was in the front seat with her feet up on the dash board, the window all the way down so that the wind blew through her hair. She had just finished telling Steve and Bucky about her time with Brock, making sure to leave out her lustful thoughts about their common enemy.

"Yup," she said popping the 'p,' "and then I kicked his ass for him."

"Atta girl." Bucky said from the back seat. 

"Should've done a lot more than just kick his ass." Steve growled.

Sam sighed, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he will not even  _think_  Riley's name after what happened."

The car was silent for the rest of the drive back to the Tower.

* * *

 

"You said  _what?!"_  Jack looked at his best friend in shock. "Are you mad?! You never talk bad about a woman's best friend, especially when said best friend  _died_  in front of her."

"I  _know_." Brock growled into his whiskey.

The two friends had gone back to Jack's apartment for a drink and so that Brock could tell him about his and Sam's first week together.

"You fucked up Brock, good luck redeeming yourself from that."

Brock knocked back his drink and poured himself another, planning on getting shit-faced that night.

"Why did you even say that to her? Was your ego so hurt because she would not open her door for you after you came running to defend her from her nightmares? Or..." he trailed off.

" _Or_  what?" Brock prompted.

"Or were you jealous that she was screaming another  _man's name_  and not yours?" 

 **"Really?"** Brock gave his friend a flat look. "I tell you that I majorly fucked up and you have to make a sexual innuendo."

"Nothing sexual about it; have you asked yourself how many times did she said your name while staying with you."

Brock sat back in his seat in deep thought as he went through the days Sam was with him and most times, when she  _did_  say his name it was always his last name.

"Exactly." 

Brock groaned and poured himself another drink, downing it in one go and Jack wondered if he would have to rush his friend to the hospital because if alcohol poisoning.

"So any idea how you're going to make up for that jab at her nightmares and Riley?"

"Yeah, I'm going to get shit-faced and then deal with it when she comes back."

"That's a solid plan."

"Oh fuck off."

* * *

"I look forward to coming back to work and seeing you all again. See you on Monday, bright and early."  Sam ended the call with her boss and dropped herself backwards on her bed.

"Happy to be going home?"

She raised her head to see Bucky leaning against the door of her bedroom and dropped it back on the bed.

"You have no idea." She said to the ceiling.

Bucky snorted at that, "I think I do actually." he moved from the door and came to lie down beside her on his stomach so that he could look at her.

"Are you staying here with Steve?"

Bucky raised a confused eyebrow at that.

"What are you talking about? Steve's going back to D.C. and I am going with him; we're going to be staying at your house didn't he tell you?"

"No." Sam dragged it out.

"Oh shit, well this is awkward." 

That made Sam roll onto her side and propped up her head on her fist, staring down Bucky.

"When were either of you planning on informing me that you  _both_  were inviting yourselves to stay at  _my_  house?"

"I just told you!"

"Fucking hell Bucky!" Sam dropped herself back down on the bed.

"Hey, we're doing this because we both care for you. We just want to ensure that you are safe, not to mention that Steve’s old apartment was literally shot to hell. And it is going to give me immense joy when Brock finds out that we will both be staying with you, his soul-mate."

Sam groaned, "I don't even know if he has a place in D.C. for me to stay at."

"Well he has a week to sort his shit out; that's if you tell him you're going back home." A new voice said.

Sam and Bucky both turned their heads to look at Steve who was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

"I haven't told him anything. I figured I would wait until I am actually back home."

"Ok, if that's what you want to do."

"Yeah," Bucky slapped her thigh, "we got your six."

Sam, staring at the ceiling nodded her head, "that's great, because I am leaving tomorrow, so I hope all your shit is packed."

* * *

"Home sweet fucking home!" Sam dropped her back on the floor and threw herself over the back of the couch to land on the seat and kicked up her feet on the chair arm. "There's really no place like home."

Steve came in and looked around the room, "it's really clean, considering how long you were gone for."

"Yeah, Tony hired a crew to clean it for me and he even got someone to fix the holes in the wall from the bullet holes." Sam looked around then asked, "where's Bucky?"

"He's casing the place, making sure that the security checks out."

Just then he walked in through the back door, that Sam remembered they had ran out of like bats out hell, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Speak of the devil." Steve smirked.

"All clear." He announced.

"Ok, so here are the house rules." Sam said, still lying down on the couch, "clean up after yourselves, no wild, loud sex to keep me awake," Bucky and Steve smirked at each other, "if you finish something tell me so that it can be replaced and one of you have to carry me upstairs, I am damn tired." She held up her hands, waiting for one of the super soldiers to lift her up and take her to her room.

Bucky stepped forward but was stopped by Steve who stretched a hand across his chest, "let me."

Bucky shrugged and allowed Steve to get their best friend.

Steve reached down and faster than expected he grabbed Sam by her waist and threw her over his shoulder, resting his hands on her firm ass. 

"Steve! That is not how you treat a lady!" Bucky chastised but he had out his phone taking pictures. 

"Oh my God! Steve! You damn caveman!" He laughed as he walked her up the stairs and she got her retaliation by grabbing his ass and squeezing.

"Your mother is rolling in her grave!" Bucky shouted from the living room.

When they entered Sam's bedroom, Steven tossed her gently on the bed and she bounced. Once she had settled she took a look at her once destroyed room and was amazed to see that the entire room had been redone; it still resembled how it had looked before, but there was a fresh coat paint on the walls which were bullet holes free, she had new furniture and a new lamp to replace the other one that got broken.

"Tony is a damn good man."

Steve was looking at the room as well and nodded his head in agreement.

"Yes, he is. Well I'll leave you to it. I have a new bed to break in with my soul-mate."

"Ok, I did not need to know that Rogers."

Steve gave her a shit eating grin in response and had to dodge the pillow she threw at his. He quickly exited her room, closing the door behind him and yelling loud enough for her to hear.

"Bucky! Come up here so I can fuck you six ways to Sunday!"

Sam buried her face her hands, laughing when she heard thundering footsteps come up the stairs and door slam and then everything went suspiciously quiet.

"This is what I get for being a nice person instead of an asshole."  

She got up off her bed and started stripping to take a nice, long, hot shower when her cell phone rang. She picked it up and frowned when she saw  _'unknown number.'_

"Hello?"

_"When were you planning on informing me that you had gone back home to D.C.?"_

Sam felt the mother of all headaches start at the sound of Brock's voice.

"When I damn well felt like it." She snapped, not in the mood for his shit and then a sick realization hit her like a freight train. " _How_  do you know I'm back home?" 

Just then an ambulance went careening down her street, siren blaring which she heard in real time and heard as an echo over the phone line.

"You fucker." She growled and tore out of her room, her feet hitting each step hard as she made her way down the stairs, tying her robe belt tight around her waist as she wrenched open her front door with such force she's surprised she didn't tear it off its hinges.

There standing in her drive-way, leaning against her new car (a gift from Tony), was Brock, with Jack leaning against his SUV parked at the curb.

Sam was flabbergasted, "what the hell are you doing here? I  _just_  got here."

Brock said nothing as he stared her down, looking pissed off as hell and that rubbed Sam the wrong way.

She walked down the front steps and kept walking until she was a few inches away from Brock, tilting her head back so that she could look him in his hazel eyes. 

"I asked you a question." 

Brock opened his mouth to answer, only to sharply look over her shoulder and Sam knew who he was looking at.

"Why are  _they here_?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jack.

"I didn't question Jack's presence when you collected me and dropped me off. So don't you  _dare_  question why  _my_  friends are staying with me in _my_ home."

"Ok, then answer this: why are they both half naked while you're in a robe?"

"Because we were about to have a very nice threesome before you called and interrupted us!" Sam was tired of this shit, all she wanted was her damn shower.

Sam swore she heard Brock growl in response to that.

"Listen here and listen well." Brock wrapped his hand around Sam's bicep and she looked down at it pointedly and looked back up at Brock with an eyebrow raised.

"Don't think that just because you moved back to D.C. that you're getting out of our deal." His grip became tighter and tighter and Sam knew that she would have a bruise afterwards. 

"You're my soul-mate whether you like it or not and  _nothing_ is going to come between us."

"Ok, first off, remove your fucking hand from my person before I snap it off at the wrist." 

Brock slowly released his grip on Sam and stepped back a little.

"And second, that whole statement right there sounded too much like 'if I can't have you no one can' so cut that shit out right now."

Sam took a breath and looked at Steve and Bucky who were watching their entire exchange unfold, ready to jump in if she signalled that she needed help.

"This is what you're going to do: You're going to get into your car, leave my home,  _never_ set foot back in this neighbourhood and I will meet you back at the parking garage for our next week of ' _Who wants to be a Hostage.'"_

Brock looked like he was going to argue and Sam narrowed her eyes.

 _"Leave."_  She growled.

He stepped back, "this isn't over Wilson." 

She watched him as he left, taking a couple of deep breaths before turning and walking back up to the house.

"So, I heard we were about to have a very nice threesome." Bucky grinned and Sam rolled her eyes.

"Get in the damn house before someone call the cops on your for indecent exposure."

"Please, everyone wants a piece of me." Bucky bragged.

"Your soul-mate is a real piece of work Rogers." Sam commented as she entered the house.

"Tell me about it." Steve teased and dodged a punch thrown by Bucky.

* * *

Sam slammed her front door so hard it rattled and Bucky and Steve made sure to move out of her way as she walked towards her kitchen in full rage.

"Who the fuck does he think he is?!"

She grabbed a drinking glass from her cupboard and the whiskey from the liquor trolley and poured herself something that went far beyond a healthy serving.

Bucky uneasily eyed the drink as Sam downed it in one go and proceeded to pour herself another glass.

"Are you sure you should be drinking so much and so early?"

"Well it _is_ five o'clock somewhere." Steve unhelpfully added, only to shrink back when he was met with twin glares.

Sam downed her second drink before recapping the whiskey bottle and leaving it on the kitchen island.

"I am so angry right now. What the hell was that? Showing up outside my home? My  _home!_  He's violated it once before and he came back!"

She threw the glass into the wall and the super soldier and the world's most lethal assassin jumped.

"Ok, how about we not throw anything else and go upstairs." Steve took Sam by one of her wrist, wrapping the other around her waist to lead her out of the kitchen and back up to her bedroom."

Sam laid down on her side on her bed, curling into the foetal position, while Steve went and ran a hot bath for her.

She heard when he turned off the water but made no effort to move. She felt him rest a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed.

"I know that you're tired, both physically and mentally, so go take a nice hot bath and when you get out, get some sleep. Whenever you wake up we'll fix you something to eat. Ok?"

Steve had stooped down so that he could see her eyes and waited patiently for her answer; but what she said next broke his heart. 

"What did I do to deserve this? I have always tried to be a good person, why did I end up with  _him_  as a soul-mate?"

Tears began streaming down her face, leaving hot tracks in their wake. 

"I don't know Sam, but know this: you are not alone. You have the backing off all the Avengers should you want or need it."

Sam wiped at her tears and nodded her head. Steve helped her up and watched as she entered the bathroom and shut the door. Only when he was sure she could not hear that he spun around to face Bucky, rage clearly written on his face.

"I don't know why out of the tens of billions of people in the world, she had to end up with Rumlow as her soul-mate, but I am going to kill him. I have never seen Sam like this; not even when we were searching for you, with no luck."

Bucky nodded in agreement, "the universe has screwed us all and Sam is the last person who should be screwed over. So what are we going to do?"

"Well for now he is useful, but the moment he hurts Sam again or she says she wants him gone, I am snapping his neck."

* * *

"First she doesn't tell me that she's going back home, only for me to find out that she's letting those two assholes live with her. FUCK!"

Brock threw his beer bottle at the wall of his cabin and watched as it shattered, pieces of glass and beer spraying everywhere.

Jack quietly sipped his beer, watching as his friend worked through his rage. He only spoke once Brock had exhausted himself, and collapsed onto the couch with what could only be a pout on his face.

"So what do you want to do now?"

The only thing he got as answer was a defeated sigh that did not sit well with him.

"You didn't think this would be easy did you? I mean, you're a Hydra agent and she's literally an angel."

"More like Satan in disguise and  _we're_  former Hydra agents, considering I am giving up sensitive information and putting my life in danger and yours just by association, she could be a  _lot_  more grateful to me."

Jack snorted, "you want too much out of life Brock. So, I will ask again, what's your next move?"

Brock was quiet for a few minutes and jack could see the gears turning in his head. 

"I think," he stopped and licked his lips, "I don't know what the hell my next move is."

"How about taking her out the next time she's with you."

"You mean on a date?"

"Well I don't think there will be any hand holding or kiss good night, but sure if you want to call it that. Just don't tell her it's a date. Just show her that you are someone other than 'Brock Rumlow, Hydra Agent.' And definitely apologize for what you said about Riley."

"But I-"

Jack held up his hand to stop Brock.

"You may have allowed her to leave before the stipulated time, but you did not outright and sincerely apologize. Do that and it will pave the way to having a better relationship with your soul-mate."

"How are you so insightful?"

Jack smirked, "my Ph.D. in psychology is not just for show."

"Sometimes I forget how smart you are, wouldn't know, just by looking at you."

"Fuck you too Brock."

The two men laughed.

* * *

**_The Second Week_ **

Sam was sure her facial expression screamed how she felt; as if she was walking towards the gallows to be hung. She sat in the back of Steve's car while Bucky sat up front with him, continuously glancing at her via the rear-view mirror and it was starting to grate on her nerves. She doesn't know how the week went by so fast, but it seems as if someone had hit fast-forward.   

All too soon they were driving into the entrance for an underground parking lot (Sam had no idea where Brock keep finding these places) and once they had arrived on the 2nd level Brock and Jack came into view. 

The car came to a stop and Steve turned off the engine, but Sam made no move to exit the vehicle. 

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look before turning around to look at her.

"Sam?" 

"I swear if he pisses me off again, I am going to  _murder_  him. I don't care if he's useful, if he so much as breathes too hard in my direction, he's going six feet under."

"Ok." Steve dragged out the two syllables. "Do you have everything you need?"

 "Yeah." Sam sighed, throwing open the back door and swinging her legs out of it. She walked halfway to Brock before turning back and waiting for Steve and Bucky to leave. She kept her head straight, not acknowledging either men as she entered the back seat of the  _Range Rover_. 

Just like in New York, Brock dropped off Jack at his apartment and then drove until they were out and far from the city. There was a tensed silence that had settled in the car, both occupants could feel it and Brock would never admit but it had him on edge.

"Want to go to the flower market with me?"

Sam ignored him but that did not deter Brock.

"I was going to go after I had dropped you off, but I figured you'd want to come, maybe pick out something you like?" Brock gave a nervous smile when Sam's eyes met his in the rear view mirror.

"Sure."

Brock had difficulty keeping a straight face; sure Sam still wanted to rip his face off but she agreed to go with him and that was a definite win in his book.

* * *

"You're a liar." Sam said as she stepped out of the vehicle and took a look at the scenery that laid before her. " _This_  is  _not a market_ ; it's a fucking  _flower farm_."

There were flowers of all species and colours  _everywhere._

"I never really thought of it that way, but ok." Brock said and walked off, making his way first to a little old lady, with a kind face and a smile to rival the sun's brightness when she saw Brock.

"Good to see you again Brock! Twice in  _one_  week."

Brock smiled brightly and Sam was disturbed to see that his smile was  _genuine._

"Good to see you too Margery." 

Margery's gaze slid to Sam who had come to beside Brock and was looking at what she was selling.

"Who's this? Your girlfriend?"

"Dear God no!"

"She's my soul-mate."

They both said at the same time, only for Sam to glare daggers at Brock.

"Oh! How wonderful!" Margery looked over-joyed, "well how did you two meet?"

"Yeah Brock, tell the nice lady who we  _met_." 

"We met while I was on a mission."

Brock knew he was going to pay for that later by the way Sam was trying to set him on fire with her eyes.

"Well, it doesn't matter how you met, but that you met."

That got a raised eyebrow from Sam.

"Right, I'll be over there, far from you." She mumbled the last part under her breath.

Margery watched as Sam made her way of to a row of Sunflowers and leaned in to say conspiratorially to Brock, "better make sure you hold on to that one tight; she seems like a keeper."

Brock quickly changed the subject to flowers and Margery if she noticed the abrupt change in conversation, she didn't say anything, instead choosing to sell her wares. 

Sam was looking around aimlessly, not really seeing anything until she heard a gentle tinkling sound. Her eyes moved around trying to find what was producing the sound, until she saw a stall a little far off in the distance, the sun reflecting off the shiny surfaces of whatever items were strung up along the edge of the tent. 

She walked over to it and as she got closer she saw that the items were wind chimes. They were all off different colours and designs; some had pieces of coloured glass with the edges rubbed smooth hanging among the metal rods, that caught sunlight as they danced in the wind. 

One in particular caught her eye; it was of a little angel boy, with brown hair, dressed in flowing white robes. He had a harp in his hands which he seemed to be playing, his eyes were closed, there was a smile on his face as if he was enjoying the music he was making; music only he could hear. He had a light blush on his cheeks and his halo glowed in the sunlight. There were metal rods and light blue glass hanging from the figurine, swaying in the breeze and twinkling softly. Something about the little figurine reminded her of Riley and her heart ached for someone she would never get back.  

"Do you want it?"

And the spell was broken.

"No." Was the curt reply.

"I think the little guy could use a good home."

She snorted, "your home is anything but good."

"Say what you want Sam, but he's coming with us."

Sam stayed where she was and watched as Brock inquired about the angel wind chime, in no time he was back in front of her holding the nondescript white box out to her which contained the item all wrapped in soft paper to keep it safe during the journey to it's new home.

"For you, consider it your first gift from your soul-mate."

Sam grabbed the box from his hands and turned, walking back to the car and slammed the door once she was in the back seat, the box with the angel wind chime resting safely in her lap. Brock didn't say anything to her when he entered the vehicle a few moments later, only started the car and got back onto the road that would lead them to his cabin.

"Do they know you're a Nazi bastard?" Sam asked maliciously and Brock slammed hard on the brakes.

He turned around to face her, "excuse me."

"I asked, if everyone back there are aware that you are a Nazi bastard?" She took sick glee in the anger raging in Brock's eyes at that.

"My parents are married, so I am not a bastard."

"But you are a Nazi."

"Listen here, if I were a Nazi, I would not have taken a second look at  _you_ , soul-mate or not."

"I  _wish_  you hadn't taken a second look at me."

Brock did not answer, choosing to continue driving instead. It was another fifteen minutes until they arrived at his cabin and just like the one in New York, this one too looked like something out of a child's story book. 

"I'll show you to your room." He said once they were inside.

Sam quietly followed him, cataloguing all the potential escape routes should things take a turn for the worse or if she felt the need to leave earlier without Brock finding out. She was thankful that Brock merely showed her where she would be staying and left. Sam then realized that she was still holding the box with the angel chime in her hands and placed it safely on the dresser where there was no chance of it falling off.

The room was again, painted in different shades of blue with the furniture matching the paint colour. Sam went over by the window seat and sat down on it, looking out the window and coincidentally Brock was outside again, taking the flowers and plants he had bought out of the trunk and carrying them over to a patch of circular up turned dirt which was bordered by decorative stones.

She watched as he transferred each new flower and plant from their pots to what would be their permanent home. He handled each one with such care and reverence Sam could not believe that this was the same man who had caused so much death and destruction. The same man who had tried kidnapping her twice. 

"This is so fucked up." She said to the otherwise empty room. 

Getting up, Sam walked back over to the dresser and opened the box, she took out the angel wind chime and held it up for a closer look.

"I'm going to name you 'Riley;' be my little guardian angel and watch over me." 

Sam didn't think twice about where she was going to hang him; gong back over to the window she opened it and hung up the wind chime on a little hook above the window on the inside and not a moment too soon, a gentle breeze blew and the room was filled with the soft sound of tinkling. 

* * *

Sam was sitting in the living room, reading a book when she heard the backdoor open and closed, a few seconds later Brock walked in shirtless, covered in sweat and a few streaks of dirt across his chest that Sam definitely did not trace with her eyes.

"Give me a few minutes to get cleaned up and I can have dinner ready in half an hour."

"Ok."

"Oh and I'm glad you like your gift; have your own little guardian angel watching over you." Brock unaware of what his words did to Sam walked up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Sam on the other hand had a crushing grip on both covers of her book, her knuckles white, her breathing shallow and fast. A few seconds later, she shot up off the couch and out the backdoor, down the porch steps and out into the wide open backyard where she let herself fall backwards on the soft green grass and stared up at the night sky, where the star shone brightly, free of the city's light pollution. 

She stared up at the stars until her breathing was back under control. Sam started naming out the constellations, something she and Riley did a lot, back when she was in the air-force and they didn't have to work nights. They would find a dark, secluded area and look up at the stars wrapped in each other's warmth. 

"Sam!"

Sam groaned at the call of her name and sat up on her elbows turning her head to see Brock fresh out of the shower; his hair still damp and flat on his hair instead of defying gravity from the products he put in it.

"What?!" She shouted back and groaned again when Brock started walking towards her.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked when he was near to her.

"Plotting your slow and painful death."

"At least you're thinking about me." He grinned down at her and Sam had the urge to wipe it off of his face  _violently._

"Shouldn't you be cooking my dinner? Go be a good host, shoo." Sam made 'shooing' motions with her hand.

"Would you like to help?"

"Nah, I'm good out here." with that said she dropped herself back on the grass, her hands folded under her head and looked passed Brock towards the night sky. 

"Ok, suit yourself." 

Sam was enjoying the peace and quiet, lying out there on the lawn, occasionally sounds would drift out from the kitchen to meet her ears but other than that it was quiet. Before long Brock was calling her name again and she got up with a silent groan.

Brock waited for her as she walked back towards the cabin, holding the door open so that she could enter before him. If she hadn't known him from before, Sam would have thought him to be the perfect gentleman, but she knew better and no matter how much he shows her other sides of him, nothing will beat his first impressions of trying to kidnap her and working for Hydra. 

Upon entering the kitchen, Sam was assaulted with a mouth-watering aroma and her eyes fell on the table that held a gorgeous spread of honey roasted chicken, freshly tossed vegetable salad, rice and peas, dinner rolls with butter and sitting in a bucket beside the table chilling is her favourite red wine; something that is fruity, not harsh and bitter and has a high as hell alcohol volume.

"What's all this?" Sam was still staring at the food.

"This," Brock gestured to the food, "is my continued apology for what I said about Riley, our first time together."

There was a moment of silence before Brock cleared his throat, "now why don't we sit and enjoy ourselves." He pulled out a chair for Sam and gestured for her to sit. She merely raised an eyebrow before pulling out another chair and sitting down on it, still looking at Brock.

Brock swallowed his hurt pride and sat down.

"It's going to take a lot more than food to even start apologizing for the shit you said."

"What else do you want from me?"

Sam while pouring herself a full glass of wine, contemplated his words. 

"For starters, I want double the Hydra intel you would normally give. Non-negotiable." Sam added when Brock opened his mouth to argue.

"Fine anything else."

"I spend only  _five_  days with you-"

Brock cut her off before she got any further with a curt "No."

Sam blinked, "excuse me?"

"You heard me,  **no.**  You can have whatever you want, but your time with me is  ** _not_  **being cut."

The glass in Sam's hand shattered but they paid it no mind, continuing to stare down each other across the table. 

"I hope you realize that I am not going to stay with you forever, and this little arrangement is not going to last very long."

Brock narrowed his eyes, "go ahead," he challenged, “end it, see where that gets you."

"I'd be fucking happy and free of you."

"Your friends would be disappointed with you."

"My friends would be happy that I am no longer miserable and sacrificing my sanity and morals."

"Your morals? What the hell does your morals have to do with anything?"

"Each minute I spend in your presence drives me closer to my breaking point of slitting your throat open while you sleep, so yes, I can feel my morals slipping more and more."

Brock laughed sardonically and shook his head, "I knew that it would not be easy having  _you_  as a soul-mate, but I had no idea how much a fucking pain the ass you would be."

"Since I'm such a pain in your ass, then null and void the deal, give us what we want and you will not have to see me again." Sam was now looking at her palm that was bleeding a little from the cut she had received when her wine glass shattered. 

"And what would I get from doing so?" Brock was also looking at the blood pooling in her palm.

"You get to keep your miserable existence of a life." Sam snapped, throwing down her napkin on the table and walking over to the kitchen sink and turned on the pipe. She hissed when the water touched her open wound and watched as the blood mixed with water went down the drain.

She heard a chair scrape along the floor behind her, as it was pushed back but paid it no mind.

"Here." Brock placed a first aids kit down on the counter beside her and leaned back on the kitchen island, giving her space but not enough that she could ignore him.

Sam opened the kit and took out what she needed, tending to her wound in the quiet, trying to ignore Brock's piercing gaze on her back. When she was finished, had packed up the kit and thrown away the trash, Sam turned around and was walking pass Brock when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm, his fingers firmly wrapped around her bicep.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"You really don' value your hand, do you?" Sam spun around and was aiming a brutal punch at Brock's face, when he grabbed her arm and using her momentum, he swung her around and shoved her face first into the wall.

"Let's get something straight here," he pressed his body hard against hers, when she had finally gotten over her monetary shock and started struggling, her arms caught in his vise-like grip, "you will  _never_  raise your hand to me again." He hissed in her ear.

"Let me go Rumlow!" She tried to push him off but he held her tight; his weight crushing her even more into the wall. "Get the fuck off of me!"

"Say you'll never raise your hand to me again." Brock would admit to anyone who asked him, in that moment, he was thinking about how good her body felt against his; she had no idea what her struggling was doing to his body. He inhaled her scent and liked how delicate her soap smelled.

He tightened his grip on her and knew that he was going to regret putting his hands on her like his, but right now he was enjoying the power he had over her.

"Say. It."

Sam was going to beat his ass once she had the opportunity, but now she made her muscles relax and agreed to what he wanted.

"I will never raise my hand to you again."

Brock grinned in triumph. "Good girl." He waited another beat before releasing her and stepping back.

Sam turned around and rubbed her wrists which she knew were going to be bruised come morning light and glared at Brock, her eyes promising a painful death. 

"I don't hit women."

Sam snorted.

"But," Brock continued, "I will not idly stand by and allow you to hit me; know that I will defend myself as I see fit."

"Ok, I understand, that's fair."

Brock should have known something was up from the look in Sam's eyes, but he was too caught up in staring at her lips when she licked them and moved closer to him. The next thing he felt was a searing pain between his legs and a smug smile on Sam's face.

"You said nothing about raising my foot."

"You bitch!" Brock made to grab Sam but she dodged him and ran up of the kitchen and up to her room, where a few seconds after locking it, there was pounding on it.

"Watch your back Wilson! You have to come out at some point."

Sam kept her back braced against the door until she heard Brock's retreating footsteps, knowing that she just woke a sleeping bear. 


	6. Not Going Down Without A Fight (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When shit hits the fan, you can always run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAUTION!!! THREATS OF RAPE & HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION!!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 
> 
> I repeat: CAUTION!!! THREATS OF RAPE & HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION!!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 
> 
> I warned you, so DO NOT curse me out if you did not heed the warnings.
> 
> So I begin driving lessons tomorrow and I am scared shitless. The drivers in my country do not obey the road laws and there is a saying that you need a strong heart to be able to drive in my country and the good Lord knows that my heart is weak. Any words of encouragement or advice would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> I hope you like this new chapter.
> 
> If you see any please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

Since that first night, during the start of her second week with Brock, Sam has made sure to watch her back. She had no idea what he had planned, but she knew it would be nothing too harsh; he didn't want to bring down hell on him in the form of some very pissed off Avengers by hurting her. 

She made sure that her back was never turned to Brock and she was close to an exit at all time when they were in the same room together. Sam at times could feel his eyes on her but she ignored him, most times he was outside tending to his garden and when she wasn't, he was either quietly reading in his favourite lounge chair or in town buying more plants. 

In addition, Sam was extremely glad to be back at work; it meant that she got to spend eight (sometimes much more) hours away from Brock and his fairy tale cabin, their acrimonious relationship was anything but. It had taken quite some back and forth for Brock to finally relent and give Sam a vehicle to get to and from work; she made it absolutely clear that he would not be coming within one hundred feet of her work place.

It was now the fourth day into her second week and Sam was counting down the days until she was free, she was currently in the middle of writing up reports when her office door swung open.

"Whoever it is I am busy." She said without looking up at her visitor.

"Too busy for two handsome men who brought you lunch?"

Sam's head snapped up at the voice and a smile broke out on her face which was soon replaced by a look of confusion.

"It's lunchtime alre-oh,  _wow_ , it's 4:00 P.M. When the hell did it become  _4:00 P.M.?!"_

"When you decided to work through your lunchtime." Bucky said, making himself comfortable in one of the two chairs on the other side of her desk.

"How are you so sure I haven't eaten already?" Sam countered while making space on her desk for the food.

Steve sat down in the other chair and handed out the food to Sam and Bucky, "knowing you Sam, you would have wanted to get caught up on all the work you missed." 

Sam heard the smug tone in Steve's voice but decided to ignore it in favour of taking a huge bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich, not knowing how hungry she was until she smelled the food.

So there she sat, at 4:00 P.M. in her office, with her two best friends, eating a late lunch and laughing while Bucky and Steve tried to tell her their most embarrassing stories of each other, which Bucky was winning and Steve was getting redder and redder by the minute. 

Once they were finished and cleaned up, Sam walked them down to Steve's car.

"This was fun." Sam commented, stomach full and enjoying the cool evening breeze.

"Yea, we should do it again." Bucky nudged her gently in her side and smiled at her.

"Too bad you have to go back to work and can't come home with us." Steve chimed in and they both knew what he meant,  _too bad you have to go back to Brock and not home with us._

"Hey," Sam turned to look at Bucky, "anytime you want out, just call and we will come and get you, no matter the time or day. We will  _always_  come for you."

Sam smiled, happy as hell that she had friends like these two, whom she knew would move heaven and hell just to make sure she is ok.

She grabbed Bucky's metal wrist and pulled him into as tight a hug as possible and then released him, making sure that she had his attention before speaking. "I know and thank you, but we need all the intel he has and staying with him for one week every other week is an  _extremely_  small price to pay."

Bucky did not look happy but he nodded.

"Ok, it's time that we get going before Bucky kidnaps you." Steve said, pulling her into a hug.

"That's not such a bad idea." There was an unholy gleam in Bucky's eye that he directed at Sam.

"Ok, yeah, time for you both to go. I have work to finish and get back to Brock before he freaks out again, thinking that I am trying to break the deal we have.

"Yeah, that was quite the memorable moment." Steve said, no doubt remembering the evening Brock had called him in a rage (panic) thinking Sam was trying to back out of their deal, when really she had just been working late and had walked in ten minutes after Brock had called Steve and started yelling at him.

After that incident, Sam made sure to call Brock and let him know when she was working late, so as to avoid Brock calling Steve and them engaging in a screaming match with each other.

"Ok, both of you, get out of here. Unlike you I actually have to work for a living." Sam said as she gave them each one last hug.

Steve smirked, "well you could always be our kept woman. Our bank accounts have been growing due to interest since the 1940's."

"No thanks, I like independent. Now get out of here."

Sam watched as they drove off and disappeared into the distance before making her way back to her office.

* * *

It was 9:30 P.M. when Sam finally made it back to Brock's cabin and she was tired; all she had on her mind was drinking a glass of water, showering and going to bed; happy that she got to go into work late the next day, thanks to all the days she worked late and not to mention the fact that she barely took any vacation days before this meeting Captain America and saving the whole world fiasco.

With that in mind, she made her way to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. The tip of the glass grazed her lip when Brock silently appeared in her peripheral vision and startled her, causing her to spill some of the water on her white blouse.

"Where'd you come from?" She asked while dabbing at the spill on her blouse. When she received no answer, Sam raised her head to look at Brock, only to feel a winter's chill go down her spine from the look in his eyes. 

Brock's eyes were swimming with simmering rage and Sam knew she had to tread carefully due to her stunt from the other day when she woke the sleeping bear. She had no idea what the hell Brock was angry about but she was not in the mood for a fight tonight. 

Sam downed her water and placed the glass in the sink.

"Good night, I'm going to bed." Sam walked around the kitchen island, keeping her eyes on Brock as he watched her.

"Soul bond."

That made her stop in her tracks. 

"What?"

"Soul bond."

Sam was now confused. "What about soul bonds?"

Brock shook his head, "not bonds,  _bond. Our bond._ "

Sam was no longer tired, but irritated, "there's no  _'our'_  there's you and me, but no 'our.'" She turned, intending to go upstairs when Brock's next words, sent a wave of fear crashing down her spine.

"Consent doesn't have to be given in order to create a soul bond."

Sam felt the blood drain from her face and alarm bells went off in her head.

"Excuse  _you,_ did you just threaten to  _rape_ me in order to create a soul-bond?" 

"No one said anything about 'rape.'" Brock walked around the kitchen island and leaned against it, allowing Sam to see for the first time, the glass in his hand which contained amber liquid. 

Looking closer at Brock, Sam saw that his cheeks were red, his eyes looked glazed and now that she was paying attention his words were slurring a bit. He was  _drunk._

"Ok, it's late, I've had a long day ad you are drunk. Let's just call it a night before you do something you  _will_  regret."

Brock laughed bitterly and downed the rest of his drink, slamming the now empty glass down on the island  _hard_  and Sam was proud that she did not flinch.

"And if I do something, what will you do Wilson? Hmm?" He walked closer to Sam and she slid her handbag off her shoulder.

"If you ever try to force yourself on me, Rumlow you will regret it." Sam voice was hard when she spoke; she would not cower to any man who threatened her with rape.

Before she could even blink, Brock had her arm in a grip and he pulled her roughly to him, this close to him and she could the whiskey on his breath.

"Maybe I wouldn't feel this desperate need to form a soul-bond with you, if ever time I turned my back you weren't basically climbing Barnes and Rogers." He hissed in her face.

Sam was confused, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Brock's grip on her arm tightened, "stop lying. I saw you with them, how close and wrapped up in them you were, especially with the  _Asset_."

Sam's mind was going at high speed when it clicked to her, "were you watching us? Where you at my workplace?" Anger replaced confusion, "I told you never to come to my workplace."

"Right, I can't go there, but an assassin is welcome there." 

"An assassin that  _your_  evil organization turned him into! He was a prisoner of war! Hydra made Bucky into a murderer!  _You_  made him into a killing machine! So yes, he is welcome at the V.A. where I work, because he needs to heal and most of all because he is my friend!" 

Brock looked murderous at her words, but they were all true; but that did not stop him from saying what he said next.

"I should just hold you down, right here, right now and form an everlasting bond between us, that way I will  _always_  know where you are. What do you think Sam?"

Sam's voice was calm and dangerous when she spoke, "I think that you should let go of me and never threaten to rape me ever again, unless you want to be castrated in a very painful manner."

The sound of a gun cocking echoed in the tense silence of the kitchen and Brock looked down at what was pressing into his crotch; a wicked looking .45 semi-automatic Remington 1911 held by Sam's steady hand was digging into his precious manhood. 

"Let's get one thing straight, unfortunately we are soul-mates,  _but you don't own me_. Don't tell me what to do, what to say ad don't ever try to tie me down because I'll never stay."

Brock released Sam's arm reluctantly and stepped away from her, he turned and walked off through the back door and out into the darkness of the night. Sam released the breath she had been holding and grabbed her handbag off the floor which she had dropped when she had grabbed her gun. She was feeling even more exhausted by the time she arrived at her bedroom which suddenly went away when her eyes landed on the  _thick_ dossier folders on her bed. 

Locking the door and dropping her handbag again, Sam hurried over to her bed and began going through the contents of the folder.

_"Holy shit."_

Sam wasted no time in calling Steve once she had seen what was in the folder.

_"Hello?"_

"I just got  _a_ folder full of Hydra intel from Brock and," Sam was at a loss for words, "I'm sending it to you right now. You need to see this."

_"Ok, thank you."_

Sam began running the documents through the mini fax machine she had set up in her room at Brock's cabin to make the sending of intel easier. She heard Steve's fax machine beep on the other end of the line.

_"Hey Sam,"_

"Yeah?"

_"You're ok right?"_

The exchange with Brock that took place a few minutes flashed in her mind, but she lied.

"Yes, I am ok. Why?"

_"You sound weird."_

Sam told part of the truth, "it's just been a really long day and I am tired,"  _physically, mentally and emotionally_ , she added in her mind knowing that if she told Steve what had transpired between her and Brock, he would have hauled ass down here with literal guns blazing.

_"Ok, go get some sleep. I'll speak to you tomorrow. Good night."_

"Good night Steve." Sam ended the call and tossed her cellphone on the bedside table, she then made sure to barricade her bedroom door properly. That night is Sam screamed herself awake from three nightmares of a faceless person holding her down and violating her, which caused her not to go back to sleep after the third nightmare then no one had to know.

* * *

 

To say that Sam was irritated the next morning when she finally made it downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee would have been the understatement of the year. She hadn't gone back to sleep for fear of even more nightmares. However, the cause for her nightmares was currently sitting at the small breakfast table sipping his coffee and reading the morning newspaper.

She ignored him as she made her way to the coffee pot and poured herself a large, strong, black cup off liquid gold. 

There was silence in the kitchen save for the crinkling of Brock's newspaper when he turned a page.

And that was the calm before the storm.

"Sam-"

"Don't." Sam was surprised that the cup didn't shatter from the grip she had on it. She knew what Brock was going to say and she didn't want to hear it.

Turning around, Sam caught Brock's eyes and held it.

"We both knew you meant what you said last night. You will rape me just to create an unbreakable bond between us because you can't deal with the fact that your soul-mate knows you for who you are doesn't what to have anything to do with you."

Brock opened his mouth to respond but Sam continued, "it goes to show that you're not just a terrorist and a traitor to your country, but you're also a rapist. I must I'm not surprised, you don't seem to be above doing whatever it takes to have your own way."

Shame flooded Brock's face in the form of it turning red.

"I'll be working late." Sam then left without another word and true to her words, she worked until eleven o'clock that night, arriving at the cabin a few minutes after midnight. Brock was still awake when Sam walked through the door. He was already dressed for bed, but he was reading a book in the living room; that was something else Sam noticed about him, he read  _a lot._

Their eyes connected but Sam walked passed him without a word and up the stairs to her bedroom, where a few minutes later she heard Brock's bedroom door close.

* * *

On the sixth day of Sam's second week with Brock, she awoke to the sound of a jet landing in the back yard. She flung the covers off of her and ran to the window where a  _quinjet_  was powering down, without a second thought Sam tore out of her room, ran door the stairs and out the backdoor across the lawn to meet Steve halfway.

"What are you doing here?!"

Steve's face was grim and Sam's stomach felt full of lead.

"That last file that Brock gave us," he stopped talking and clenched his jaw, Sam saw a vein throb in his neck, "we scouted the location and we're going to need you and your wings Sam. There was some nasty stuff going on and it's all hands on deck for this one."

Sam nodded, she had a feeling that she would have been called in when Steve saw what she did and her bags were already packed, no doubt that Steve had her uniform and wings on board the quinjet.

"I just have to explain the situation to Brock and I will be right back."

Steve nodded and watched as Sam walked back to the cabin, his eyes narrowing when they landed on Brock who was on the porch, glaring right back at him. Sam walked up to Brock and said something to him, that Steve could not hear from where he was standing and he watched as they both entered the cabin with Brock slamming the door.

"You really were hoping that they would call you in huh? Anything to get away from me?" Brock eyed Sam's already packed bag as she put on her shoes.

"Brock we both know that I would have been called away sooner or later while I am staying with you." Sam wasn't in the mood to start another fight, something that it seemed Brock wanted to do when he blocked her path after she had grabbed her bag and was trying to leave her bedroom.

She looked up into angry hazel eyes and sighed, "please move Brock, I've got to help clean up Hydra shit,  _your shit_."

Brock clenched his jaw and Sam wondered if his teeth were hurting from the pressure they were experiencing but he moved aside and let her pass. he followed her back outside but stayed on the porch as she walked across the lawn to the quinjet; her hair was whipping around in the breeze created by the quinjet's engines and she seemed relieved to be going into battle, anything to get away from him and he felt a pang in his chest.

"Hey Sam."

She spun around at the call of her name, scraping her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, Brock had never thought she looked more beautiful than she did right now.

"Rule # 5: You're friends aren't welcome on my property."

With that said, he turned around and walked back into his cabin, slamming the door for emphasis.

* * *

"Baby Jesus on a fucking pogo-stick." Sam exclaimed as she fought off the fifth _mutant_  Hydra agent that had attacked her within ten minutes of entering a nondescript building bum-fuck Montana.

Steve had briefed her on the plan of attack while on the way to the Hydra base; Sam already knew what to expect from the files she had read last night but it was still hard to believe that Hydra had reached new lows of trying to fuse human  _and animals_  DNA and actually succeeding. So far Sam had to fight off two human cobras that would be the stuff of nightmares for years to come, one agent with the teeth and claws of a lion, another agent who had the abilities to blend in with their surroundings and a fucking  _chimera_.

"I am going to kill Brock and Jack after we are done here." Sam growled, "this is beyond fucked up."

"This is a whole new category of fucked up." Tony's voice came over the comms, "I think I just shot a dragon/bird thing out of the sky."

"Ok, guys this is a lot more...," Steve was at a loss for words on how to describe their current situation, "just pay attention to what you're doing and watch each other's backs."

Answers rang out to his command and after that the sound of battle rose again.

Sam and Bucky were inside the Hydra facility, running down a corridor. Their job was to find the serum that was mutating the human and animal DNA together and to destroy it.

Bucky kicked in the door that the serum was locked behind and he and Sam came to a sudden stop.

"What the  _fuck?_ "

"Oh my God."

Sam's voice was filled with disgust while Bucky's was one of utter despair.

"They're...they're  _babies_  Sam."

Before them, in the large lab there were  _hundreds_  of incubators as far as their eyes could see.

"No." Bucky's voice was soft, broken and pleading.

Sam took a step forward, looking into the incubator closest to her and in there she saw a beautiful little red hair baby,  _with_ rattle-snake tail growing from its tail bone and what should have been ten tiny fingers were  _hooves._

"I think I'm going to be sick. I knew Hydra was evil but this...this...," Sam saw Bucky wipe his eyes but said nothing, "I don't know what  _this_  is."

Sam knew that the others had to see this, she herself could not believe what was before her eyes.

"Steve, you and the others need to get in here. Now."

By the time Steve, Natasha, Tony and Clint arrived in the lab they found Bucky sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and tears running down his eyes as he stared out at the numerous incubators.

Sam was in the middle of the lab looking to find at least  _one normal human being baby_ to save. 

When she looked up, she saw the varying degrees of horror on her teammate’s faces.

Tony looked as if he wanted to run far away and never return.

Natasha looked as if she was gearing up to cry and that scared Sam.

Clint looked as white as a sheet and as if he was about to faint.

Steve was kneeling beside Bucky, running a comforting hand through his soul mate’s hair, but the look on his face screamed  _murder._

Sam looked at her friends and knew she was going to sound like a cold hearted bitch for what she was going to say next, but someone had to say it and the deed had to be done. 

"They have to be destroyed."

All eyes locked on her, but Sam paid them no mind as she began walking back to the group, looking to into each incubator as she passed them. 

"All of them needs to be destroyed, we can't afford for anyone to get their hands on these..." she paused and considered her words, but she had to call them what they were, "experiments and we can't take the chance of them being let loose on the world when they have matured."

"Sam's right." Everyone turned to look at Bucky as he stood up and wiped the tears still streaming down his face. "She's right, but  _I can't_  have no part in this. I know that they are dangerous but at the same time they are innocent little babies who did nothing to deserve this." Bucky looked around the room, no doubt remembering the innocence that was stolen from him and what he was made to do." 

"It's ok Buck, we understand." Steve, turned to look at Sam and then at the incubators, "we're going to need a lot of fire power."

Tony, Natasha and Bucky had gone back on the quinjet, while Sam, Steve and Clint placed all the explosives they had in strategic places of the Hydra facility and once they were back at the quinjet, Sam pressed the remote detonator and blew the place sky high. She watched dispassionately as the building burned to the ground, concrete giving way and collapsing, metal melting from the heat it was exposed. In a few short minutes there was  _nothing_  left of the building; nothing left of the mutated babies in incubators.

There was a sad, tensed, calm before the storm atmosphere on the quinjet as everyone stared out the roaring flames. No one was sure of what the next move was until Tony spoke.

"I'll get Stark Industries on clean up; I think we all need to go home." 

No one said anything as they found their seats and  _Jarvis_  took control of the quinjet flying them home, each lost in their own thoughts of the horrors they uncovered today and what more they had yet to uncover.

It was that thinking that made Sam do what she did.

* * *

**1:20 A.M. Sam's House**

Steve was had literally just fallen asleep; he was still reeling from the day's events and Bucky was no better, that's why when his phone started ringing he considered throwing it into the wall until he name flashing on his screen.

"Rumlow? What the hell is it?" He hissed, pissed as hell that the ringing woke up Bucky that is until Brock asked the one sentence that he would admit made his blood run cold and stopped his heart.

_"Where is Sam?"_

* * *

**3,470 Miles Away, 6:20 A.M.**

Sam was not surprised to see at least one light on downstairs, after the taxi had dropped her off. She carefully made her way up the wet front steps of the house in the upscale neighbourhood of Kensington W8 and opened the door using the key she always kept on her person should she ever feel the ineed to get away at a moment's notice.

Walking out of the cold rain and into the warm house, Sam gently placed her duffel bag on the expensive hardwood floors and took off her jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. She then followed the scent of breakfast being made and when she reached the kitchen, Sam leaned against the doorway, looking at the strong back clad in a red robe, of the man at the stove, whistling as he scrambled eggs. When he turned off the stove and no longer had anything sharp or hot in his hands Sam spoke.

"Daddy."

The man froze and slowly spun around and then Sam was looking into the kind brown eyes of her father, Harry Hart. 

"Sam."

At the sound of her name, coming from that posh voice, she felt her face begin to crumble from the day’s events and ran to him, finally allowing herself to break down in the safe, warm and strong comfort of her father's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no crossover, for now I think Harry is the only Kingsman character I will use in this story. 
> 
> Harry is a sweet and gentleman but do not fuck with his daughter or he will fuck you up. 
> 
> I know jack shit about guns; thank God for Google! :D
> 
> I also like using song lyrics in my fics. :D


	7. Run Lil' Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run lil' Red before the Big Bad Wolf gets you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this new chapter.
> 
> If you see any please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

_"What the fuck did he mean by 'where is Sam?' He was supposed to be picking her up!_  

Steve had to remove the phone from his ear as Tony screamed on the other end of the call, across the room Bucky stopped shoving an arsenal of weapons into a duffel bag to send a murderous glare in Steve's direction; he had not taken the news of Sam running away well.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, "Brock said, that Sam told him  _I_  was dropping her at his cabin, whereas Sam told  _me_  that  _Brock_  was picking her up from the bus station we dropped her at since it was half-way to his place. I didn't know that she would run; she didn't give  _any_  indication that she was going to run."

There was swearing on the other end of the call again.

_"Why did she run? Did that bastard do anything to her?"_

"I asked and she said that everything was ok." Steve sighed, he was tired and the fact that Sam ran was doing nothing for his mental health. "Listen Bucky and I are heading to Brock's place, see if you can track her down and contact her. Find out why she ran without coming to us." 

_"Will do."_

Steve ended the call and looked at Bucky who was still looking homicidal, "I would ask you not to kill Brock when we get to his place, but I feel as if I would be wasting my breath."

"Why would she just run without telling us? She lied to us and she ran. Why?"

"I don't know Buck."

"And where did she go?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders, he was just as lost as Bucky to Sam's actions.

"All we can do now is talk to Brock, find Sam and bring her home."

* * *

It took some time for Sam to open her eyes and when they finally opened, she was greeted to the sight of royal blue walls and expensive furniture. The bed on which she was lying was extremely comfortable and the covers laying over her body with a cloud like feeling had a very high thread count.

Sam was confused as to where she was until the sleep haze cleared from her mind and she remembered the previous day's events that led to her making a tactical retreat (not running; Sam never ran) 3,000 miles away from her home and friends. She knew in her bones if she went to Brock she would have slowly and painfully killed him without mercy.

It was on the quinjet, flying back to D.C. that Sam made the decision to run. She knew, she  _knew_  now, exactly who Brock was - a Hydra agent - and knew the evil he had taken part in, but she didn't quite understand the true evil until she had set foot in that facility and saw all those babies robbed of their lives, their  _innocence._

Feeling suddenly exhausted from the images of mutated babies in incubators that her traitorous mind assaulted her with, Sam snuggled back down under the covers, pulling them up and over her head so that only some of her hair was peeking out and she squeezed her eyes closed tight but that did nothing to stop the tears from leaking out.

She heard the gentle tap on her bedroom door and heard it open.

"Sam?" 

"Yeah?" Her voice was wet with tears.

The side of the bed sunk with her father's weight and she shuffled closer to him while still covered.

"How are you feeling love?"

Sam shrugged under the covers, knowing her father couldn't see her but knew what she did.

"Do you want something to eat?"

At the mention of food Sam's stomach growled loudly.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Get up and wash your face, I'll have the food hot and ready by the time you get downstairs." He bend over and kissed her head through the covers and then left her.

Sam waited a few more minutes before kicking off her the covers and rolling herself out of bed, she walked into the bathroom and avoided her reflection in the mirror, knowing that she looked like a wreck but not wanting to confirm it. Five minutes later she made her way down to the kitchen and sat at the island where a plate of scrambled eggs, toast with jam, mango slices and a cup of tea was waiting for her.

"Thanks daddy."

"You're welcome darling."

Harry waited until his daughter had finished her late breakfast to begin speaking.

"Are you going to tell me why you showed up here in the wee hours of the morning crying?"

"I didn't show up here crying dad."

"No, but you had a breakdown a few minutes afterwards, why's that?"

Sam stared hard at the tea in her cup while her father patiently waited for her to respond.

"I found my soul-mate."

And just like that Harry's face lit up with joy.

"That's wonderfu-"

"He's a Hydra agent." Sam interrupted.

"Well fuck." Harry's mood dropped instantly. 

"Or at least former Hydra agent, I don't think he's affiliated with them anymore, especially since he's been giving us intel on them in exchange for me staying him every other week."

"Ok," Harry rubbed his temples, "start over, I think you may have left out a few important details. He's giving you information in order for you to stay with him?" The disbelief was clear as day on his face and in his voice. "We need whiskey for this."

Sam spun around her stool watching her father walk in the living towards the liquor cabinet.

"Dad! It's 10:48 A.M.!"

"It's five o'clock somewhere!" 

She said nothing when he came back into the kitchen with a full bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers. He poured them both healthy servings and put the bottle down between them.

"Ok, start at the beginning and leave nothing out."

Sam did as told, not stopping even when she told him about the thinly veiled rape threat Brock threw at her and the tumbler in her dad's hand looked like it was about to shatter from his grip on it. When she was finished silence reigned until her father broke it.

"So you lied to your friends and came here instead, don't you think they are out of their minds, worrying about you?"

"I know that they are; more than likely Brock has already alerted them to the fact that I did not go back to him and I will contact them, just not yet. I need more time to gather myself together; I need some 'me time.'" The guilt was eating her alive, knowing that she's making her friends worry, but she needed time to herself, away from everyone and everything. She had to make a clean get away; however long that will last with a tech genius, two spies, a former assassin and a very stubborn super-soldier as her friends, she didn't know.

Harry nodded, "ok, but call one of them soon so that they don't burn the world to the ground like you and Steve almost did while looking for his soul-mate Bucky."

"I will."

"Now I don't know whether to put a bullet through your soul-mate's eyes for threatening you or to kill him slowly. Your mother is surely rolling in her grave."

"Don't I know it." Sam agreed and down the rest of her whiskey.

* * *

"Hey Rogers, tell your bitch to stop glaring at me; Sam disappearing has nothing to do with me."

Brock and Bucky were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room.

"You're the only bitch here and Sam leaving us has _everything_  to do with you!" Bucky still looked murderous and his trigger finger was itching, the gun tucked in the back of his pants scorching his skin with the need to be used. 

"She chose to run." Brock snarled, "she said she was coming back and then poof! She disappears without a word!"

"Because of you, you asshole!" Bucky snarled back. Steve was keeping an eye on him, he did not have time for a brawl between him and Brock.

"Brock," Jack's voice sounded from the chair in the corner where he sat watching everything unfold, "tell us the truth, what did  _you do_?"

Brock glared at his friend and said between gritted teeth, " _nothing._ "

"Bullshit." Jack stood and approached his friend, "I have known you for too many years to know when you are lying." His eyes bored into those of his friend's.

"I may have threatened to rape her."

There was a stunned silence in the room, which was broken by the cocking of a gun,  _Bucky's gun,_ other than that, no one spoke, moved or blink, the three men just stared at Brock. 

 _"What?"_ Steve looked murderous.

Bucky's eyes were hard as he looked Brock up and down, disgust in his voice when he spoke, "I never thought you could go any lower Rumlow."

"May have? It's either you did or didn't threaten her. Which is it?" Over the many years, that Jack has been friends with Brock, he has stood by and watched as Brock committed murder, treason and acts of terrorism over and over again, however, he  _never_  in a million years thought that Brock would go so low as to threaten his  _soul-mate_  with rape.

"I threatened her." Was the shameful answer they received.

"Ah shit! Do you have a death wish Brock?!" Jack had a feeling that he would soon be fighting off  _two_  super-soldiers so that his dumb-ass best friend didn't get himself killed.

"I was drunk and jealous!" Brock tried to defend himself but even to his ears that excuse was weak.

Steve laughed bitterly, "'drunk and jealous', wow Brock, I honestly have no idea what to say to that. You were going  _rape_  my best-friend; one of the greatest women I know because you were drunk and jealous?"

"Listen, I-"

"No!" Steve cut off Brock, "because of you Sam ran and believe it or not apparently Sam is very good at hiding."

"What?"

Three pairs of eyes turn to look at him.

Steve ran and hand through his hair, angry as hell and one wrong word away from snapping Brock's neck.

"The only thing Tony could tell me is that she got on a plane to England; after that nothing. It's as if she disappeared into thin air and she took the battery out of her phone so we can't track her."

"Fucking hell." Brock muttered.

Steve looked at Brock who was glaring at the floor as if it had wronged him, "when we find Sam bring her home, there is no way in hell you are going  _anywhere near her_."

The look on Brock's face was murderous and the smile which stretch across his face was venomous, "you're forgetting about our deal Rogers."

"Fuck the deal." Steve was barely restraining the urge to kill Brock and everyone in the room knew it. "That deal was made to keep Sam safe, because we all know that you would have tried kidnapping her again, but after this, you are  _never_  going to see her again."

That was the straw which broke the camel's back.

Brock rushed forward in the blink of an eye and delivered a vicious right hook across Steve's jaw. Steve punched him in his nose, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction when there was the loud sound of it breaking. The two men started trading blows, resulting in Bucky and Jack having to tear their respective best friends a part and keep them from killing each other.

"Fuck you Rogers! She's my soul-mate! You can't keep her away from me!"

Steve was red in the face as Bucky dragged him out of the cabin,  **"WATCH ME!"**

Bucky managed to drag his enraged best friend out of the cabin and into their vehicle, jumping into the driver's seat and tearing out of the driveway, so that Steve didn't get the chance to go back into the cabin to continue beating the shit out of Brock.

"I swear to God, I am going to tear him a part, piece by fucking piece." Steve growled, his eyes doing their damn melt the windscreen.

"Yeah, me too pal, but he can be dealt with  _after_  we get Sam back."

Steve sighed angrily, slouching down in his seat.

"I had no idea Sam was good at disappearing."

Bucky snorted, "better yet, who the hell does she know in  _England_?"

There was silence as Bucky's words sank into them.

"That's a damn good question; what  _do_  we  _know_  about Sam's family?" Steve asked, turning to look at Bucky.

Silence again settled over them in the car, until Bucky broke it, his voice holding nothing but regret.

"Not a fucking thing, but" Steve looked at Bucky, something akin to hope shining in his blue eyes, "I saw a picture of Sam standing with an older gentleman on her bedside table. They were standing in front of a big house, in what seemed to be an affluent neighbourhood."

"Ok, that's a start."

It was Bucky's turn to look at Steve, "if I describe the house to you, can you draw it and we can probably use that to narrow down our search."

Steve thought about it, "I don't see why not. Tony should be able to use the drawing to pin point the exact location."

"Ok, it's a plan. We are going to get her back. One way or another, Sam will come back home to us and when she do, she's never leaving us again."

"That sounds real creepy Buck."

"Shut up punk!"

Steve chuckled but in the quiet of his heart wanted to tear the world apart in order to find Sam.

* * *

"Should you really be eating those?" Harry eyed the bag of gummie bears Sam was currently eating out of as they walked the streets of London in the warm afternoon sun; the streets almost empty due to work and school still being in session. "You're already hyper enough already."

Sam chuckled, "oh come on, I can sit still for longer than five minutes now."

"Thank God for that, I remember how difficult it was keeping you on solid ground as a child." Harry smiled as he remembered fond memories of Sam climbing the tallest trees she could find, jumping off the roof of the garage scaring her mother and him half to death on more than one occasion, watching the video of Sam flying the  **EXO-7 Falcon**  for the first time. 

"Pot meet kettle," she teased, "both you and mommy had issues with staying still as well." Sam bumped her shoulder into her father's.

"Ok, I'll give you that." Harry conceded as he took a gummie bear from Sam and popped it into his mouth, linking arms with his daughter as they continued walking down the street. 

They walked in silence for the next three blocks.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Harry looked at Sam in confusion.

"I can practically hear the gears spinning in your head, I'm surprised I don't see steam coming out your ears," Sam teased, "so what's up?"

"I'm just wondering if Brock would try and turn you," Sam levelled him with a look, " _or_  is it possible to  _turn him_."

"I had this discussion with Steve and Bucky already and we all came to the same conclusion: Brock is Hydra all the way through, he  _bleeds_  Hydra; he just wants me, that's why he is giving us information, but I'm sure as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would have done something; I just had to get out." 

"I'm glad that you did." Harry agreed.

"But? I hear a 'but' in there."

"But you just disappeared without telling your friends and you haven't called them as yet."

Sam sighed, knowing that they were probably going out of their minds with worry, especially Steve and Bucky but deep down she felt as if she was letting her team, friends and the world down for not sticking to the deal to stay with Brock and get information on Hydra. 

Harry knew where his daughter's thoughts went and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "they're your friends and I am sure that they would rather you escape a toxic situation that stay in it for their benefit only to be consumed by it."

Sam wrapped an arm around his waist, "ok, you're right. I'll call them as soon as we get back to the house."

"That's my girl; and if they are disappointed in you, you will always have a place here or anywhere you choose to settle, I have money to spend on you."

Sam laughed, "it's great having a rich father."

* * *

"Well, your girl might have been lying when she said that she was more of a soldier than a spy." Tony spun around in his chair to face Steve and Bucky who had flown out to New York, "because she seems to have vanished into thin air. She's seen boarding the flight and getting off it in England, but after that, poof, nothing."

"Well, I think we may have  _something_." Steve pulled the drawing he made of the house Bucky had described to him and gave it to Tony.

Tony studied the drawing, his eyes taking in the smallest of details.

"Nice house; whose is it?"

"We think it belongs to Sam's father." Bucky volunteered.

"Think?"

Steve and Bucky shared a guilty look before Steve spoke up, "Sam haven't told us much about her private life. Yes, we live with her, but until she upped and disappeared on us, we literally had no idea how little we knew about her."

"Yeah, so we're hoping that you can somehow find the location of that house with your awesome genius and help us bring our girl back home." Bucky finished. 

Tony looked at the two men before him long and hard.

"She really hasn't told us a lot herself." He looked back at the drawing and felt disappointed with himself as well that he didn't know a lot about one of the few persons he trust with his life. "I'll see what I can do with this, he waved the drawing, "in the meantime get some rest, you both could use it, super-soldiers or not."

Steve and Bucky left the lab and took the elevator up to their apartment in Avengers Tower.

"I don't know what it says about me as a person, that it takes the person who I call my one of the best-friends running away for me to realize that I know not one fucking thing about her life." Steve stopped and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing, "sure I know about her time in the Air Force and about Riley, but I literally know not much else about her. I don't know her parents, if they're still alive, are they married, is she adopted, what her favourite colour is-"

"Steve!" Bucky interrupted him, "take a breath, I don't know much about her either, well I do know that her favourite colour is blue." He grinned cheekily and Steve punched him in the shoulder.

"Punk."

"Jerk."

"How the fuck do you even know her favourite colour?"

Bucky looked at Steve as if he were stupid.

"A part from when she's in her flight gear, Sam always has on something in a shade of blue, hell even the ring she never takes off of her little finger has a blue stone in it and her bedroom and bathroom is  _all blue_."

Steve looked bewildered, "huh."

"You know for being a brilliant military strategist, you sure are blind to certain things."

"Shut up and go get some rest."

"Aye aye captain!"

* * *

Sam sat staring at the burner phone she had purchased in the airport to contact Steve with. She had told her father that she would call him, but that was easier said than done.

"I don't think it's going to bite you."

Sam just about jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ! Warn a girl next time!" She glared at her father who smirked.

"Just letting you know that I am defrosting the chicken for dinner, so you have enough time to make your call."

"Ok, thanks."

Harry left, closing the bedroom door to give Sam privacy.

Sam's eyes went back to the phone on her night stand and taking a deep breath, she grabbed the phone and dialled Steve's number before she could chicken out, listening to it as it rang. 

_"'lo?"_

Sam felt guilt eat at her from hearing Steve's tired voice; more than likely she had just woke him up, probably from much needed sleep.

"Hey Steve."

_"Sam?!"_

There was rustling which Sam assumed were bed sheets.

_"Sam?!"_

She heard Bucky's voice in the background.

_"Where is she?!"_

A pang of guilt flooded her heart and the worry she heard in his voice.

"Put me on speaker." Something she knew was completely unnecessary, what with Bucky being a super soldier and having enhanced hearing, but wanted to let him know that she was including him in the conversation.

_"Ok, Sam, you're on speaker."_

"First off, I'm am so sorry I disappeared without telling you. I'm sure I made you all worry."

_"Sam, listen, you don't have to apologise, I understand why you ran. I'm sure if any of us were in your position we would have done the exact same thing, only from the beginning; you are extremely brave for taking this deal in the first place and strong for sticking it out."_

"But I  _didn't_  stick it out. I ran, I'm sure that null and voids the deal with Brock."

_"Fuck the deal, Brock isn't coming anywhere near you when you get back home."_

Sam loved her friends for being protective of her, though she couldn't help but think about what they would be giving up if they broke the deal and she gave voice to these thoughts.

 _"We thought about that and decided to do it the old fashion way. We'll use all that we can that came to light from the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Project insight."_ Steve explained.

 _"Not to mention that I remember a lot of HYDRA's secrets."_  Bucky piped up.

_"Yeah, that too. His brain will finally be put to good use."_

Sam heard the sound of something going thump and Steve cursing. 

"Still, now that the deal is broken Brock  _will_  come for me again. He's not just going to let me go like that. He wants what e thinks is his and that's me."

 _"We'll handle Brock."_ Steve said and his tone brook no argument,  _"he'll never get close enough to even lay a finger on you, trust me."_

Sam wanted to believe Steve, but something was screaming at the back of her head that things were going to go downhill fast, so she lied.

"Ok, I trust you."

_"Good."_

She heard the happy smile in Steve's voice and cringed.

 _"Just stay where you are and take all the time you need."_ There was a beat of silence and then _"where are you?"_

"London, England, at my father's home in Kensington."

 _"I told ya' it was somewhere in England!"_  Bucky crowed.

_"No one said otherwise Bucky. Sam, when you get back home we're going to sit down and have a long talk."_

"I would expect no less Steve."

_"Stay safe Sam, we love you."_

"Love you all as well."

* * *

_"London, England, at my father's home in Kensington."_

_"I told ya' it was somewhere in England!" Bucky crowed._

_"No one said otherwise Bucky. Sam, when you get back home we're going to sit down and have a long talk."_

_"I would expect no less Steve."_

_"Stay safe Sam, we love you."_

_"Love you all as well."_

The sound of the call ending echoed in the room and Jack looked at Brock who grinned.

"Gotcha Sammy girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to go down!!!
> 
> Even without a soul-bond Brock can always find Sam. Sigh... poor Sam.


	8. Stealing Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm just some fellow, riding in and stealing Cinderella...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The portion of this chapter that is in italics is a dream regarding RAPE, DO NOT READ IT IF IT TRIGGERS YOU!!!!!!
> 
> I repeat: DO NOT FUCKING READ THE ITALIC PART OF CHAPTER 8 IF A DREAM ABOUT RAPE WILL TRIGGER YOU.
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> "Stealing Cinderella" by Chuck Wicks

"Stark is going to be pissed as hell when he discovers we were able to hijack his A.I. system." 

"Well he can go fuck himself." Brock snarled, "they shouldn't have tried keeping my soul-mate from me." He adjusted his grip on his bag as he and Jack waited on their rental car to be brought to the front of the airport.

"Yeah, they are all going to be in for the shock of their lives and you my friend, is going to have some seriously pissed off enhanced beings after you."

"Don't worry about that, I have various safe houses scattered around, I am taking Sam and we're going to disappear."

Their rental car pulled up and they got in, Jack behind the wheel, navigating their way out of the bustle of the airport.

"Hope you're ready for the hell of a fight she's going to put up."

Brock smirked maliciously, "she can fight all she wants; once our soul-bond is formed, she's not going to be able to go  _anywhere_  without me knowing. It's going to be like my own little 'Sam GPS.'"

"She's going to hate you."

"She already hates me." Brock mused for a little while, "but I suppose that's better than indifference.”

Jack glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye, "how's hate better than indifference?"

"Don't you know? The opposite of love isn't hate, it is indifference; and as long as she hates me, that means she's thinking about me and has a piece of me tucked away in her heart."

"Your way of thinking baffles me at times and I have a doctorate in psychology."

Brock merely smiled, turning to look out the car window at the London passing scenery.

* * *

"Her father is Harry Hart, a former Army doctor, I guess that's why she was a pararescue in the Air Force." Jack read from the file he had compiled on their targets, knowing that getting to Sam would not be easy with another trained fighter in the house.

Brock barely paid him any mind, instead choosing to watch Sam and her father as they exited the restaurant they had dinner in, arm in arm completely unaware of the eyes that were on them.

Sam was wearing a black strapless lace dress, which stopped at her knees and had on black stiletto sandals that showed off her legs but did nothing to assist her in the height department where her father was concerned, as the top of her head barely caught her father's shoulder.

Brock narrowed his eyes when he saw the cross tattoo on Sam's shoulder that was partially hidden by her hair and felt his blood run hot at the thought of what else she hid under her clothes. He then felt jealousy course through his veins as Sam smiled brightly and laughed at whatever her father had said, throwing her head back and extending her beautiful neck that Brock going to put his marks on once he had her in his grasp.  It had been three days since Brock and Jack arrived in England, and each time he saw Sam, he could not help the itch he got to grab her and run.

His eyes trailed followed them until they turned the corner and were out of view. 

"We can grab her at the house, if we intercept the father first; hold him and gun point and make Sam trade herself for his safety." Jack laid out his thoughts. 

"We're taking her tonight." He started the car and drove off in the opposite direction, already knowing the layout of her neighbourhood and house, getting in would be the easy part, getting her out, well that would be Sam's choice; she could either go the easy way or the hard way.

* * *

It was a nice night out as Sam and her father walked back to their home. They had a great time out, but as she laughed at his jokes, she could not shake the feeling that something was going to happen. It was probably nerves from the past few weeks, but she'd rather be paranoid and nothing happens, than to let her guard down and have the world go to hell in a hand basket.

"You listening to me Sam?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at the call of her name.

Harry smiled warmly at her, his brown eyes showing nothing but love and comfort.

"I guess that answers my question."

Sam sighed, "sorry, you can take the girl out of the war, but you can't take the hyper vigilance out of her."

Harry nodded in understanding, "I know what you mean. What's on your mind?"

"Just wondering what happens whenever I return to the States; where do we go now that we won't be getting intel from Brock."

"I know that uncertainty is scary, but trust your friends to help you when you get back and clear your mind of that. You are  _here_  not  _there_ , when you get to that bridge, myself and your friends will cross it with you."

"You really are the greatest father ever."

"I know." The smugness could be heard clearly in Harry's voice.

"Wow! And so humble too."

Little did Sam know, that same night she would be fighting for her freedom and then her dignity.

* * *

 

** 10:28 P.M. **

Sam and Harry arrived home, and neither feeling like going to bed as yet, settled down in the living room, Sam still in her dress sans shoes and her father in his pants suit, sans jacket and tie.

"I am looking forward to the new film next year, sucks that it's going to be in 3D, those damn glasses gives me a headache." Sam said, from her spot on the couch, snuggled down into the corner by the couch.

"Well after the forth film, hopefully, the fifth isn't as bad." Harry commented, eyes never leaving the t.v. screen.

They were watching  _Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest._

Harry looked at Sam, "still have room for popcorn?"

Sam's eyes lit up, "yeah! Make sure it's the one with extra butter."

"Yes, your highness." Harry got up to do the popcorn.

"And bring back some water please!" Sam shouted.

"Aye aye Capitan." Harry saluted and Sam laughed, remembering how she prefers the Spanish word for captain rather than the English since seeing  _The Mask of Zorro_.

** 10:45 P.M. **

Sam checked the time and wondered what was taking her father so long.

"Hey, old man, what the hold up?"

There was no answer.

Sam sat up from her slouch and muted the t.v., her senses on high alert, she listened to the quiet and knew that it was quiet,  _too._ She didn't even hear the sound of the popcorn being popped.

"Dad?" 

No answer again and Sam felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She slowly got up off the couch, "daddy?" Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet and as it made contact with the hardwood floor where the carpet ended she felt a chill run through her.

Sam placed her back to the wall and edged along it, once she reached the opening to the kitchen she slid down and stuck her head around the corner, giving herself a good view of  _three_  pairs of feet instead of there being just one. 

"Come on out Sam, we know you're around the corner."

Sam cursed at the unmistakable voice that belonged to one Brock Rumlow.

Knowing that her father could still hold his own and together they could create a lot of damage, Sam stood up and calmly  walked into the kitchen to see her father flanked on each side by Brock and Jack, with the latter holding a gun to her father's head who did not look pleased at the current situation.

Sam turned her attention to Brock, "how the hell did you find me?"

Brock smirked and looked Sam up and down slowly; it took all Sam had not to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Answer the damn question Brock and tell your dog to remove his gun from my father's head."

Jack made no indication that he took offense to being called a dog and removed the gun from Harry's head when motioned to by Brock; however, he did grab Harry by his arm and made him sit in one of the chairs at the dining table, standing behind him and keeping a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, to answer your question," Brock and Sam stared down each other across the room, "it was only a matter of time before you contacted your friends. I had a tracer up and running, waiting for that call and once it came, and automatic trace began, and here we are." 

"So you hacked  _Jarvis_." Sam said, "Tony is going to be furious when he finds out what you did."

The look Brock gave Sam sent off even more alarm bells than him being in her father's house did.

"Well we'll be long gone by the time he finds out."

"Oh, you're leaving? Great, don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you on the way out."

"You're funny Sam and that's one of the many reasons I like you."

"Letting you know that the feeling ain't mutual."

They continued to stare each other down, neither giving an inch.

"Allow me to repeat myself," the look in Brock's eyes was hard, "Jack and I will be leaving shortly and  _you_  will be coming with us."

Sam snorted, "I think not."

"We had a good thing going Sam, you spend every other week with me and in return you get precious information on Hydra. Why'd you have to run? Did you think you'd get far? Or that you'd be able to hide from me? You're my soul-mate Sam, there's no getting away from me."

"Wow, that's not creepy at all," Sam walked closer to the kitchen island, keeping her eyes on Brock's, "and do you think that me being your soul-mate automatically means you have a claim on me?"

"Well, as soon as I get you out of here and somewhere secluded and quiet, I will get to the claiming part of this relationship." The glint in Brock's eyes screamed danger.

"Excuse me."

Brock turned to look at Harry who had spoken up, Sam still keeping her eyes on Brock, as her hand inched closer to the knives in the knife holder on the island. 

Harry's gaze was hard as he stared at the man standing in front of him.

"Did you just threaten to rape my daughter,  _again_?"

Brock laughed mirthlessly, "why is everyone throwing around that word? I didn't say anything about rape; I'm just taking what's mine."

"I'm not yours to take."

"She's not yours to take."

Sam and her father spoke at the same time.

There was a stillness in the air after that; the atmosphere was tense as the four occupants of the room stared down each other. The knife that Sam had managed to grab hold of, held tightly in her fist, out of view below the island. 

"Sam."

"Yes, daddy?"

"Run."

At that command, Sam threw the knife in her hand at Brock, cutting into his sleeve causing him to drop his gun, with the momentum dragging his hand back where the knife was lodged into the wall. Brock grabbed the handle and started pulling while Sam was already hauling ass out of the kitchen and into the living room where she made a beeline for the door.

She heard a gun go off but did not turn back, hearing footsteps pounding behind her.

"Keep running."

Her father’s voice said from behind her as she pulled opened the door, ran down the steps, down the pavement and not even bothering to open the miniature gate to the premises, she simply jumped over it, her father keeping up with her.

It was dark, cold and wet as Sam ran down the street of her upscale neighbourhood in only the dress she wore to dinner with her father running beside her. The sound of her bare feet hitting the pavement was soon drowned out by the roar of a car.

"Shit!" harry grabbed her wrist and doubled his speed, forcing Sam to hike up her dress in order to keep pace with his long legs.

"Where are we going?!"  Sam looked behind as the SUV turned the corner sharply and spun back around, pushing herself to go faster.

"A friend's place! Your soul-mate will never think to look for you there!" Harry answered.

Sam wondered at that, when Harry turned right suddenly and pulled her behind him, leading her up a dark footpath, which led to another quiet and upscale residential area.

"Are we almost there? I think I may have cut my feet."

"Yes darling, almost there. Just one thing." Harry turned around and gripped Sam by her upper arms, catching her eyes in the streetlight they were standing not too far from, "please, when you see who we are going to, I am asking that you remain calm and do not jump to any conclusions."

Alarm bells went off in Sam's head, "dad?"

"Please, Sam I promise that I will explain everything but for now just trust me."

Sam sighed, feeling herself beginning to crash from the adrenaline leaving her body.

"Ok, fine."

"Great." Harry took his daughter's hand in his and walked to the second house on their immediate right. They went up the stairs to the to the front door where Harry did a combination of three knocks, three times with a beat in between each set. 

When the door swung open Sam almost committed murder.

* * *

"Really dad? Really? Him _?!_  Out out of everyone, we had to run to  _him?!"_  Sam was sitting on the bed of the room she was given, with her foot stretched out in her father's lap so that he could tend to the cuts on her feet. Her hair was still damp from the hot shower she had just taken and was dressed in and oversize t-shirt loaned to her by the man who was currently providing them with a safe haven, the shorts were too big, no matter how tight she drew the draw strings and gave up after the third time they fell down.

"Sam, I will explain everything in the morning, we are both exhausted and now is not the time for such a serious discussion." Sam hissed in pain as Harry pressed a little too hard with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol against her foot-bottom, making sure it was properly cleaned and disinfected before wrapping it in gauze and surgical tape. 

"You are aware of the fact that we have not seen each other in over  _ten years_?"

"I am well aware of that and it has been at the forefront of my mind, but right now we need someplace safe for you to stay until we can get you back to your friends, and guess what, Owen can provide that safe place.

"And none of your friends can't?"

Harry smirked at her, "I don't have such dangerous  _'friends.'_ "

"Bullshit."

"Language."

Sam scoffed, "he'll just try and use this to his advantage."

"And if he does? Just do what you always do and do your own thing; you know what's best for you."

Sam remained silent.

"Look at it this way, we need a solution and if that means dealing with Owen then so be it. Brock is dangerous and Owen is doubly so, you know that he would burn the world down for you, so if it means he has to start a forest fire to keep you safe then I will give him the bloody matches and gasoline. Now, this discussion is on hold until tomorrow morning. Try and get some rest." Harry stood up and kissed Sam on her forehead before walking to the bedroom door, "oh and one more thing," Sam looked at him expectantly, "please refrain from smothering Owen in his sleep."

That got him an eye roll, "I make no promises."

* * *

_She was running._

_Running from something she could not outrun._

_She could not escape the endless darkness that was surrounding her._

_She stopped to catch her breath and that is when something, no, someone grabbed her._

_She screamed and tried to run but she could not move._

_"There's no use in running, I'll always find you."_

_Sam froze, she knew that ink black venomous voice._

_"Brock?" The fear was clear in her voice as she turned around slowly to see Brock standing behind her, his grip on her arm tight and bruising, a malicious smile on his face._

_"Hello Sammy girl."_

_Sam began struggling, trying to free herself from his grip but he held on tight. She tried to kicking him but found that her legs were tied down with thick ropes binding her ankles in a spread eagle fashion to a bed foot exposing her most private area to the hungry eyes of Brock._

_"No!" Her eyes widened in horror. Sam was naked and tied to a bed with Brock leaning over her. She was tied down and helpless._

_"No! Don't!" Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to escape the fingers that were tracing her body in mockery of a lover's caress._

_"Shhh," Brock tried calming her, "it'll be ok. I'll make you feel so good."_

_Sam cringed in disgust as he licked up her neck and tried to keep her mouth shut but he was able to force his tongue pass the barrier of her lips and teeth. Not being able to do anything else she bit him hard and he drew back, cursing._

_"I like the fire in you Sam and it's time that I claim it." He started to strip and with each article of clothing he removed from his body, Sam became even more frantic; she was aware of the ropes cutting into the skin of her ankles and wrists but she didn't care, she has to get away from the man who was about to become the monster in her nightmares._

_"Brock, don't. Please don't."_

_Brock looked at her in sympathy and she thought he was going to stop until her spoke._

_"I'm sorry Sam, but this is the only way to make sure that you can't run away from me. I'm not going to hurt you."_

_Sam glared at him, "you're already hurting me you monster!"_

_"It pains me as well that we had to create our bond like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures." He leaned down close to her face that she felt the heat of his breath wash over her face, "and I am a desperate man."_

_And then without any warning Sam felt an intense shooting pain in her most intimate area._

**_"NO! No! Stop!"_ **

_The pain she felt was horrible, she felt as if she was being ripped in two._

_"Stop! Please! It **HURTS!** " _

_Sam was frantically trying to free herself but the ropes were pulled tight, leaving her there vulnerable as Brock violated her in the most intimate of ways._

_"NO!"_

_"Sam! Stop fighting!"_

_"Get off me!"_

**"SAM!"**

_She was still struggling when a harsh slap was delivered to her face._

Sam eyes flew open and she shot up in the bed to come face to face with the concerned eyes of her father.

"Daddy?"

"Sam? Are you back with us?"

Sam looked down at herself to see that she was still in the borrowed t-shirt and in the room loaned to her by Owen and remembered the events of the night before. Sagging in relief Sam covered her face with her hand, hissing when she touched her sore cheek. 

"Sorry about that, “her father apologized, "you were getting a bit violent and you wouldn't stop screaming."

Sam remained quiet, her hand still over her face.

"Do you want to talk about what had you screaming like that?"

She shook her head and felt herself begin to quiver as memories of the dream that felt so real came rushing back and she broke down crying again.

"Come here darling girl." Harry drew his daughter into his lap and held her, trying to soothe her fears as she cried on his shoulder.

"It felt so real!"

"I know, but it was just a dream. Just a dream sweet child. He can't reach you here, Owen and I would put him down before he ever laid a finger on you."

Sam then remembered Owen and spun around, almost knocking her father's jaw with her forehead to see Owen standing at the bedroom door observing the scene before him. They silently stared at each other for a few seconds before Sam turned back around, leaning against her father's chest.

"Thanks for checking on me, but I'm ok now."

Harry looked down at her head of dark hair, "are you sure?"

"Yeah," Sam crawled out of his lap and back to her previous spot on the bed, "I'm just tired. I want to try getting some more sleep."

Harry eyes her with apprehension.

"I swear, I'm fine. You can leave me."

"Ok, but if you feel scared or uncomfortable you can come to me."

"Thanks dad."

Harry got up and bid his daughter good night again, exiting the room and leaving Owen and Sam alone.

"You can go too." Her voice was hard and she did not look at him.

"Sam-"

She cut him off before he could say anything further, hating the way he said her name with a sigh, as if she was being a stubborn child.

"I said you can  _go_." 

"Fine, but I'm leaving the door open in case you need us again.

Sam choosing to ignore him, turned over on her side putting her back to the open door and most importantly to Owen. She waited until she heard his receding footsteps before releasing a shuddery breath, the remnants of her dream still too fresh not to mention getting Owen mixed up in this mess,  _her_  mess was the last thing she needed.

* * *

Morning light came too quickly in Sam's opinion as she dragged herself downstairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being prepared by her father and Owen. She sat at the breakfast table and dropped her head on her folded hands, only looking up when she heard the 'thunk' of a cup being placed on the table in front of her by Owen. 

Sam stared at the strong, black coffee for a beat before wrapping the index, middle and ring fingers of her left hand around the handle of the cup and taking a long drink of the black gold. 

"Thank you."

"No problem." Owen graced her with his signature charming smile and Sam had to look away in fear of being blinded and pulled in by it again.

"So what now?" He asked as he got plates out of the top cabinet and put them on the table along with cutlery as her father brought the food over.

 _'What now indeed?'_  she thought as she took her time, piling her plate high with food, not realizing how hungry she truly was until she had smelt it.

"I need to find some way to securely contact Steve; I need him, Bucky and Natasha. Out of all the Avengers they would be the most skillful in getting me out of the country without Brock knowing.

"Wait you're leaving?" Owen sounded suprised and Sam exchanged a look with her father.

"Yes, I can't stay here, it's no longer safe. I mean he knows where my father lives, he knows  _who_  my father is and I am not going to put you," she gave her father a pointed look, "in anymore danger."

Her words were met with no argument, but that might have been due to the daggers she was shooting from her eyes.

"Ok, we can't make you do something that you don't want to." 

"Way to point out the fucking obvious Owen."

Owen ignored her remark and continued speaking, "but I have a way to help you out in regards to a secure network."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "let me guess, it's highly illegal?"

"Oh no, in fact it's very legal, a bit too legal for my taste."

"I had no idea that word was even in your vocabulary."

"Mock me all you want Sam, but right now I'm the only one who can provide you with a secure line to call in the Calvary."

She hated to admit it but Owen was right; turning to her father she asked, "do you have anything to add?"

"I called in Owen to help because he has an underground network that no one, not even your friends have access to. If we want this Brock situation dealt with and fast too, our best bet right now is him."

"Fine, do what you have to so that I can contact my friends."

 "Ok, give me an hour." With that Owen left father and daughter in the kitchen.

Sam leaned her chair back on two legs and folded her arms across her chest, regarding her father.

"Bringing in Owen is going to open a whole new can of worms, I hope you know that."

"Oh, don't I know it."

"I'm glad you're so unbothered by it; first a soul-mate who is H.Y.D.R.A and now Owen. This cannot get any worse."

Harry smiled brightly at her, "oh, I'm sure it can."

"Fuck you old man and wipe that damn smile off your face." Sam said with a smile on her face, secretly hoping that things would not get any worse that they already were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life ain't going to get any easier for Sam.


	9. The Roundabout-Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Calvary arrives.
> 
> There are negotiations and death threats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all like this new chapter!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"And you're  _100% sure_  that it's  _secured_?" Sam asked for the fifth time. She knew that it was secure but she did not want to take any chances.

"Yes, Sam." Owen said exasperated, "if it were any more secure it would be the  _fucking Virgin Mary!"_  He hissed and then felt suddenly horrible by the look on Sam's face. "Sam, darling I'm-"

"Could you please leave?" She cut him off, "I need to call my friends."

Owen knowing he had fucked up with that outburst did as asked and left the room closing the door behind him.

Sam looked down at the nondescript phone in her hand and sat down on her bed. Taking a few calming breaths she dialled and all too familiar number and put the phone to her ear, listening to it as the line rang.

 _"Hello?"_  

She heard after the third ring.

"Steve."

_"Sam?"_

"Yeah, it's me."

_"How are you? I tried calling your phone but it just rang with o answer. To tell you the truth you had us worried over here."_

Sam remained quiet.

 _"Sam? What happened?"_  The worry was clear in Steve's voice.

"Brock found me."

 _"WHAT?! How?!"_  

"I don't even know. He somehow managed to hack  _Jarvis_  and listened in on our conversation when I told you where I was, he then came here and attacked me and my father but we managed to escape."

_"Wait, back up Sam, he hacked Jarvis?"_

"Yes, I said that. Tony isn't going to be very happy when he hears about that."

_"Well that too, but Brock could be listening in on this call right now."_

Sam rolled her eyes, "I'm not that stupid Steve. I'm on what I was told is a fucking secured line."

_"I'm sorry Sam, I know you're not stupid but this is the second time Brock has come after you- wait, where are you?"_

"I'm-" Sam "I'm at a friend's house, my dad apparently told him about the situation before hand so he was prepared for when the shit had hit the fan."

 _"Ok, what do you need?"_  Steve slipped into his no nonsense Captain America voice.

Sam smiled, ever the hero.

"Right now I need you, Natasha and Bucky here."

_"Alright, just let me make some travel-"_

"Don't worry about that," Sam cut him off, "everything has been arranged, you just need to follow some instructions to get here."

_"Ok Sam, it's you show, tell me what to do."_

Sam ended the call after an hour on the phone with Steve going over the plans of what he, Natasha and Bucky should do to get to England, where to go once they arrive and whom to speak to. As she sat there staring at the phone in her hands, she knew that she was crazy for what she was about to do, using the secure line, Sam dialled a number she thought she never would and listened to the line ring before it was picked up.

 _"Hello?"_  The voice was low and cautious.

"Brock."

 _"Sam? Sam where the hell are you?"_  He growled and Sam's grip on her phone got tighter.

"Brock you need to leave me alone. Can't you see that I don't want you? Why do you have to make this so difficult, why do you have to make  _my_  life so difficult?"

_"Leave you alone? Never. And yes, I can see that you don't want me, but this has nothing to do with 'want.'"_

"Then what the hell does it have to do with?" Sam snapped.

_"It has to do with the fact that You.Are. Mine. It's in our DNA and it was decided by fate, so 'want' has nothing to do with our situation and more to do with the reality that you belong to me."_

Hearing those words fall from Brock's lips had Sam thinking about what kind of childhood he may have experienced and then wanted to slap herself for thinking that. Many persons thought that it was an individual's childhood that predicted how they would behave as an adult but that was complete bullshit. No matter how great or bad someone's childhood is, it is up to the person to decide how they will live their life as an adult, whether they will be a law abiding citizen or they will become a terrorist and Brock it seemed chose the latter.

"Well I hate to burst your bubble but you're wrong about that last part."

Her words were met with silence then a question.

_"What are you talking about?"_

"That part about reality being me belonging to you."

More silence.

_"I am missing the point."_

Sam felt a malicious smile cross her face.

"I already belong to someone else so in reality I in fact Do. Not. Belong. To. You." Sam then ended the call before Brock had a chance to say anything, feeling rather good that she was able to throw him off, even if only for a little bit.

* * *

"And Sam said that we should wait  _here_?" Bucky asked skeptical, his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses.

"Yup." Steve said, taking another sip of his coffee.

"But it's so  _open._ "

Steve looked at Bucky between the space offered by the brim of his cap and the top of his sunglasses.

"I agree with Bucky that it's too open, but I can see why Sam would want us to wait here." Natasha said as she subtly took in everything around her. "It's open enough for us to see everything, but also open enough that someone would have to be bat-shit crazy to try anything. We are extremely close to  _three_  different police stations." 

"That...that actually makes sense." Bucky said, just when someone dropped down in the seat beside him at the semi-out-door cafe they were waiting at.

There were instantly three guns pointed at the newcomer, two courtesy of Bucky and one from Natasha, whereas Steve looked ready to flip the table.

"Yeah, Sam said I shouldn't surprise you guys, that I might lose my life in the process."

At the mention of Sam's name the tension at the small table skyrocketed.

"Who are you?" Bucky growled but the newcomer paid him no mind, instead focusing on Steve.

"Ah, you must be Steve Rogers. You're a lot smaller in person."

Bucky growled and nudged the man in his temple with one of his guns.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked again, voice low and dangerous.

The man did not flinch nor did the smile on his face drop, if anything thing it became shark-like.

"The name's Owen Shaw, nice to meet you."

The table was silent only to be broken by Natasha cocking her gun.

"Natasha?" Steve glanced sideways at his friend, she paid him no mind.

" _Two fucking years._ " 

Owen took off the cap and sunglasses he was wearing, baring himself to their eyes.

"Do you know him?" Steve asked looking between them while Bucky was still pressing his gun into Owen's temple.

"You want to ease up on that mate? My face is my best feature."

Bucky's smile rivalled Owen's in sharpness, "let's hear what Natasha has to say before we decide if you lose or get to keep your best feature."

"Owen Shaw, former British Special Air Service Major and special ops soldier."

Bucky and Steve were still confused.

"And what the fuck has that got to do with Sam?"

"The man sitting before us is a paramilitary-trained criminal mastermind."

Owen nodded his head, "you know your stuff."

Natasha narrowed her eyes dangerously, "I spent two years of my life trying to catch your ass, so I am having difficulty processing how Sam could ever know you and if she does know you, why send  _you_  to meet with us?"

"You don't know Sam very well do you?"

"That becomes clearer and clearer every day." 

Sam said that you all would be suspicious of me; she said that I should tell you," he looked pointedly at Steve, "'on your left' said you knew what it meant."

Steve sighed and minutely relaxed, "put away your guns and let's hear what he has to say."

"What?" Bucky asked, "you know what that means?"

"Yeah, I do, so let's hear what you have for us."

Both assassin and spy grudgingly put down their weapons.

Owen smiled brightly and placed a small black duffel bag on the table between them.

"In there you will find three secured phones, directions to a safe house and the keys to a secured vehicle that you will find in the garage. When you get to the safe house, call the number at the top of your contacts list and Sam will meet you there." Owen was about to leave after completing his part of this rendezvous when Steve stopped him.

"That's it? Sam didn't say anything else?"

"No, she didn't. The last run in with Brock has her on edge a bit so everything is on a need to know basis. To tell the truth I don't even know where the safe house is; she found it, wrote down the directions and put it in a sealed envelope and then into the bag. She told me in great details what would befall me should I open the bag. So if you have no more questions for me, I'll be taking my leave now."

The trio watched as Owen walked away and disappeared into the afternoon crowd.

"Let's go see that safe-house shall we." Steve suggested getting up and not waiting to see if Bucky or Natasha was following him.

* * *

Sam was in the living room of Owen's house when he arrived.

"I did as instructed, almost got my face blown off courtesy of the  _Winter Soldier_ -"

"Do not call him that." Sam snarled.

Owen ignored her, "and your friends seemed rather shock to find out that you know a criminal like me. Have you told them anything about you? I mean the real you Sammy girl."

Something inside of Sam snapped at hearing the nickname that Brock had started calling her fall from Owen's lips and she launched herself at him, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and dragging him down so his 6'0" frame was at her eye level.

"Watch what you say to me and especially what you say to my friends. I already have enough problems with Brock, I don't need you adding to them as well."

"Careful there Sam, you remember what happened the last time you got so commanding with me. I had guys in my unit asking if I was attacked by a wild animal."

She wanted to violently wipe that maddening smirk off of Owen's face.

"You're disgusting."

"Sticks and stones love, sticks and stones."

"I am going to assume from this lively atmosphere that Owen made contact with Steve and the others."

Harry's arrival had broken the tension building between Sam and Owen and she shoved him away from her.

"Yeah, he made contact. Now it's only a matter of waiting for them to call."

"In the meantime, how about I make us all some lunch?" Owen suggested and walked into the kitchen.

"Remember the arsenic for your portion." Sam shouted out and dropped herself back into the couch.

"You know," Owen came to stand in the doorway of the living room, raising his arm above his head so that he could brace himself against the door jam, "you have such a caustic tongue, it's amazing that Rumlow is still chasing your ass; because knowing you, you have told him about his mother is about eighteen different languages."

Sam tried not to stare at the bit of skin at his hip bone that was showing thanks to Owen's shirt riding up.

"Don't be ridiculous, I would  _never_  tell someone about their mother, no matter how horrible they are."

"No, you wouldn't do that, but you would up and leave without any word for  _ten years_."

Sam rolled her eyes, "don't tell me you're still bitter about that. Once the shit hit the fan even a blind man could tell that I was going to haul ass as far from you as possible."

Owen's face darkened, "oh you hauled ass alright, right into the arms of another man, tell me how is good ol' Riley these days."

Sam was up and off the couch in the blink of an eye, making her way over to Owen who watched her carefully knowing the destruction her small body could do.

"Sam." Harry got into between them, "ignore him, Owen weren't you going to make lunch? Go and do so."

Feeling like a scolded child, Owen did as told.

"Sam, I know that Riley is a sore point for you, but it's a great advantage for your enemies who knows your history with him, so you have to stop making every little snide remark about Riley get to you."

Sam huffed and stared hard at the ground.

"You're a therapist, you should know how to do so."

"It's easier telling people to let go than actually having to do it myself."

"I know darling." Harry walked towards her and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight to his chest and Sam wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his sweater as some tears escaped her eyes. "I know."

* * *

Steve, Natasha and Bucky had arrived at the safe house, which in reality was a quaint little summer house. They made their way inside and put their luggage in the living room before doing a sweep of the entire house and the garage. Once they were satisfied that it was indeed safe, Steve pulled out his secure phone.

"Ok, so the instructions were to call Sam when we got here, so let's do so." 

He opened his contacts and called the number at the top, putting the phone on speaker they all listened as the call connected.

_"Hello?"_

"Sam."

_"Steve!"_

"Hey, how are you?"

_"Ha, I have been better. Much better. How was the flight?"_

"Ok, enough with the inane questions," Natasha said and grabbed the phone from Steve, "tell us why you know a paramilitary-trained criminal mastermind."

"Nice Tasha, very tactful." Bucky mocked.

They heard Sam sigh over the line.

_"That is a conversation to be had in person. We'll meet you at the safe-house in an hour."_

"'We?' Whose 'we?'"

_"Me, my father and Owen. I promise that when we get there I will answer your questions."_

Not bothering to wait for an answer Sam disconnected the call.

"You know that saying 'still waters run deep?'" Bucky questioned.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "yeah, what's your point?"

"Just how  _deep_  does Sam run?"

* * *

Sam stared at the summer house that grew closer and closer as the car she was travelling in drove towards it.

"Ya' know the last time I was here was the night of my  _fifth form_ graduation party. The shit that went down that night was cra-"

"Oh no, please continue." Her father said as he drove the car around the fountain in front of the house. "I would like to know  _what_  graduation party, because I distinctly remember you telling me that you were sleeping over at Jan's and Jason's house."

Sam remained quiet, folding her lips and staring pointedly out the window.

"And I would also like to know what  _'shit'_  went down that night."

Owen began cackling in the back seat.

"Well that's all in the past and just know that nothing was stolen or damaged, maybe except for Phillip's sanity." Sam said quickly and jumped out of the car as it came to a stop, rounding the front of it at the same time the front door of the summer house opened and Steve walked out.

"Hello Yankee."

Steve raised an eyebrow, 'yankee?'"

Sam grinned, "you're on the other side of the pond now."

"That we are, so how about you guys come inside and we can get this show on the road."

Sam walked pass Steve snatching his hand and dragged him into the house behind her, leaving her father and Owen to close the door behind them. Inside she found Natasha and Bucky in the living room who stood when she had entered.

"Sam, it's so good to see you." Bucky enveloped her in a tight hug. "Don't ever disappear like that again."

"I won't." She promised.

"Tasha." She and Natasha embraced and then let each other go, turning to face Owen and her father.

"Guys," Sam walked over to stand beside her father, "this is my dad, Harry Hart. Dad this is Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes."

Harry beamed "it's great to finally meet you all, I've heard nothing but good stuff about all of you."

Natasha folded her arms, a fire in her green eyes, "that's funny, we had no idea Sam's father was British considering we knew nothing about you until Sam ran away."

"Now's not the time, Tasha." Steve said, nudging her gently.

"You're right," she conceded, "now's the time for answers, the first being how the hell do you know this asshole?" She pointed at Owen who simply raised an eyebrow at the name calling.

All eyes turned to Sam and she sighed, closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, trying to gather the strength she knew she was going to need once she answered that question. Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Sam opened her mouth and spoke.

"I know Owen Shaw because he's my husband."

The room went deathly still as if all the air had been sucked out of it. No one moved or spoke, Steve, Natasha's and Bucky's eyes going back and forth between Sam and the para-military trained criminal who she said is her husband.

Bucky was the first to speak.

“You married a criminal?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t know he was a criminal at the time.” Sam rubbed her forehead, feeling the start of a headache.

“Sam 'a fucking saint' Wilson, husband’s a criminal.” Natasha decided to insert her two cents.

“Well he would be my fucking  _ex-husband_  if he’d just sign the fucking divorce papers!” Sam snapped.

"And I told you the first time when you presented me with divorce papers, I would only divorce you when hell freezes over and guess what love," he turned to face her a Cheshire cat grin on his face that Sam wanted remove  _violently,_  "hell hasn't even had a drop in temperature.

Sam made face of disgust, "you know the more time I spend with you, the more I figure it won't be so bad handing myself over to Brock."

The smile instantly fell from Owen's face, "take that back right now."

"How about you drop dead and go to hell?" 

"No thanks, I don't want to go anywhere that Riley is."

Sam didn't even have a chance to open her mouth before Steve and Bucky had Owen up against a wall.

"Watch your mouth Shaw, I don't know what's with you and Sam but keep Riley's name off your venomous tongue." Steve's face was murderous and Bucky's wasn't any better.

Owen was stunned but he soon got over that, "oh my God, Oh my God! You don't know." He began to laugh.

"Know what?" Steve questioned.

"This is just too rich; Sammy girl you are the true epitome of still waters running deep."

Bucky glanced back at Natasha, uncertainty shining in his eyes.

"Listen Captain Rogers when this Brock issue is over and done with, you may want to sit down with your friend and have a nice long chat with her." His eyes found Sam's over Steve's shoulders and she glared daggers at him.

"What the hell are you on about?" Steve was getting tired of receiving breadcrumbs information about someone he considered one of his best friends.

The smirk on Owen's face became mean, "ask Sam, she'll tell you or maybe she might run. Never can tell with Sam."

Sam had had enough and she knew that Owen was a jealous and vindictive son of bitch "that's enough Owen."

He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow, "oh is it? Was Riley enough?"

Harry stepped in, "that's enough now Owen, we're here to solve one problem, not create another."

"You're right, I'm sorry." He said sincerely and Steve let him go, both him and Bucky backing off.

"Ok, Harry turned to face the group, "now that introductions are out of the way, what are we going to do about this Brock problem?"

"Wipe his existence from the face of Mother Earth."

All eyes turned to look at Sam.

Steve was the first to speak up, "Sam, weren't you the one who was not for killing him."

"Yes, I was and then I saw the horrors that he took part in so now I am all for putting him eight feet into the ground."

Owen looked confused, "don't you mean six feet?"

Sam shook her head, "nope I mean eight feet. You put him six feet under and I will stomp his casket down two more feet."

"Dear God, I married a tiny vicious person." Owen was in awe, "my best friend always said that short girls were scary."

Bucky snorted, "yeah, before Steve got to this size he was this tiny righteous ball of fury."

"Ok, does anyone have any ideas besides killing him and no, restarting that deal he had with Sam is not an option." 

"That was  _never_  an option." Sam said as she walked around and couch and dropped herself on it, kicking up her feet onto the centre table, she folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "I need a goddamn drink."

"Why don't you just lock him up?" Owen asked.

"Yeah, and while we're at it we can lock you in a cell next to him." Natasha said and Sam snorted.

"Nah, Tasha, where Owen is concerned you would want to put him down; he may not look it but he can become real annoying when locked in a small space for a long time."

"Yeah," Owen drawled, "and you would know all about small spaces considering you locked me in a-"

"Finish that sentence and I will slice you open." Sam promised not bothering to open her eyes to look at him, knowing that he would do as told.

Bucky was watching the exchange between the two.

"Are all divorcing couples like this?"

"We're not divorcing."

"Sign the damn papers and we will be."

"I am not signing anything."

"I can't believe Sam married you with how she literally wants to put you in the ground."

"Yeah, well there was a time I loved him, but then I found out that he's a fucking liar and here we are now." Sam spread her hands and then dropped them in her lap.

Owen opened his mouth to comment.

"Owen don't even continue." Harry warned, "we're here for one thing and one thing only, once that is out of the way, you can Sam can go at each other's throats all you want."

Sam snorted, "like hell, once this shit is finally put to rest I am on the next flight out back home, ain't nobody got time to argue with that fool."

Steve, Bucky and Natasha stood off to the side watching the drama unfold before them.

"I have to say this is all rather entertaining." Natasha commented, Bucky and Steve nodded in agreement.

Harry looked done with the both of them "children, please try to at least act civil for the time being."

Owen held up his hands in surrender and Sam waved her hand dismissively.

"Right," Steve clapped his hands together and his  _Captain America_  voice came out, "the first deal we had with Brock fell through, so there is no point in trying to resume that."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Not to mention that just having me with him every other week was not sitting well with him either." Sam sat forward, her hands clasped together and her elbows resting on her knees, her eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

"Steve, I know you said that we could tear down the rest of H.Y.D.R.A. with the information leaked on the day  _Project Insight_  fell, but the knowledge Brock has is extremely valuable and just think about what would happen should he decide to sell that knowledge to the highest bidder."

Bucky sighed, "Sam's right, Brock is valuable but we need to somehow convince him to still give us information without using Sam as a bargaining chip  _again."_

"That's going to be a problem," all eyes turned to look at Harry, "seeing as how he flew this far just to get to her."

"So my only options are either to lock him up, kill him, keep running or give myself over to him?" Sam groaned in frustration and dropped her head back on the couch. "This is fucked up."

"We're absolutely not getting anywhere." Natasha said, "if we kill him or lock him up, we get no information, Sam can't continue running for the rest of her life and we sure as hell are not handing her over to him."

Everyone began speaking, not noticing Harry lost in thought.

"What if we brought Brock in on this and negotiated with him?" 

Sam looked at her father as if he had gone mad, which she voiced, "dad have you gone mental?"

Harry paid her no mind, “we could find out what he wants other than Sam."

"I doubt he wants anything other than her, I mean he was getting ready to stick a needle in her neck the first night she got back after searching for me." Bucky spoke up.

Sam had forgotten about that night in all the chaos and running; it seemed like a life time ago.

"Ok."

"Ok what?" Steve asked her.

"Let's call Brock and bring him in."

The room exploded in objections from Bucky, Steve, Natasha and not surprising Owen.

"Listen, we need to try something new and if he tries anything, we can kill him on the spot or capture his ass."

Sam stared down Steve, "you know I'm right on this, I mean you worked with the guy, you know how he is."

Steve looked to be struggling with himself before sighing, "fine, call him, but he tries  _anything_  and he will be put down."

"No arguments here." Sam pushed herself up and out of the couch, taking the phone out of her back pocket, going to last calls and selecting Brock's number, something that was not lost on Owen.

"You've called him before?"

Sam shot him a dirty looked and walked over to the window that looked out to the garden at the side of the house, knowing that with Bucky's and Steve's super-soldier hearing, they would hear the entire conversation no matter where she went.

Listening to the line as it rang her grip tightened on the phone from the stares she felt boring into her back from ten pairs of eyes.

_"Sam?"_

"Brock."

_"Calling again so soon, I'm touched."_

Sam dragged a hand down her face, "I want to meet with you."

Her words were met with silence.

"Brock? Hello?" Sam moved the phone from her ear to check that the call was still connected which it was. "Are you there?"

 _"Where?"_ Brock cleared his throat,  _"where should I meet you?"_

"Just so you know, I won't be meeting you alone."

_"I wouldn't expect you to."_

Sam gave him the directions to the summer house and disconnected the call.

"And now we wait." She announced to the others in the room.

* * *

An hour later the occupants of the summer house heard the sound of vehicle approaching.

"Get ready for a world of fuckery." Bucky said as the roar of the vehicle got louder.

Steve looked at him, "let's just all try to be as civil as we possible."

"So when are we going to tell him that Sam and I are married?" Owen piped up from his chair in the corner of the living room.

"I need a drink." Sam announced and proceeded to take a long drag from a whiskey bottle she had found in the liquor cabinet while the others looked on.

"Fuck it, pass that over here Sam." 

She passed the bottle to Steve's out stretched hand.

Bucky eyed him up and down, "don't know why you're wasting perfectly good whiskey, not like it can do anything for you."

"A guy can dream." Steve replied.

There was a knock on the door and everyone's heads swivelled around at the sound.

"It's open!" Sam called out and tipped the bottle to her head again.

Brock and Jack walked in and Sam kept her eyes firmly planted on the painting above the fireplace, that's why the missed the look of surprise and then outrage on Brock's face.

"What the fuck?"

Sam then looked when she heard the anger in his voice, rightly confused since she told him that she would not be alone, only to see him not looking at her but at  _Owen_. 

"Sup mate."

Owen looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"What the hell are  _you_  doing here?" Brock growled.

Sam's head turned from one man to the other, "wait, you know him?" She pointed towards Brock, "you know each other?"

" _You know him."_  Brock said more than asked Sam.

"Unfortunately I know  _both_  of you." She said, "the question is  _how_ do you know each other, something Owen  _failed_  to reveal since he was brought in on the shit going down." She hoped that her glare would set the asshole on fire.

Owen chose to speak up, "I used to supply his squad with weapons, back when he was legit and still fighting for his country, you know, before he became a terrorist."

Brock looked like he wanted to kill Owen.

"And as to how Sam knows me-"

Sam sat up, knowing what he was going to say, "Owen don't even finish that-"

"-I'm her husband."

"-sentence."

Brock looked from Owen to Sam and back to Owen and the look on his face would have been comical if not for the storm Sam knew was brewing.

_"How the hell did someone like you get Sam to marry you?"_

"That's a story for another day," Sam spoke up, "right now our only concern is reaching a solution that everyone can agree on. Brock, Jack have a seat."

The two men looked around the living room and at who was sitting where; Sam was seated on the long couch with Steve and Bucky, Natasha was sitting on the window seat, Harry was sitting in the arm chair and Owen was seated on a tall stool in the corner where the walls met like a child put in time-out, the only seat available was the love seat across from the couch with a centre table in between both seats. 

Brock sat down and stared straight at Sam who was concentrating very hard on something above his head. 

"Before we get down to business, Sam I would like to sincerely apologise."

That got Sam's attention.

"For what exactly? Trying to kidnap me? Breaking into my house, attempting to drug and kidnap me? Kidnapping one of my friends? Using said friend as a bargaining chip? Threatening to rape me? Breaking into my father's house in an attempt to kidnap me and threatening to rape me  _again_?"

"Jesus Christ." Bucky mumbled under his breath.

"I am sure that I forgot something but they're there. So  _what exactly_  are you sorry for Brock?"

"I  _am_  sorry for all of that," Brock sincerely said, "but I am extremely sorry for that comment I made about kidnapping your mother."

"Excuse me?" All eyes turned to Harry who looked murderous.

"Sir, I am truly sorry, at the time I was completely unaware that your wife had passed on."

"Well now you know, so can we get on with it?" Sam was getting impatient and her irritation was growing.

Steve leaned forward, his face serious, "now we are all here because the previous deal that was made between Sam and Brock fell through with good reason and due to some  _unfortunate events_ -"

"That's one way of putting it." Sam commented and Steve continued as if she had not spoken.

"We all need to come to a solution that  _Sam and Brock both_  agrees with."

That made Owen start, "wait, just them? Doesn't everyone get a say?"

"Considering this affects Sam and Brock, especially Sam more than anyone else in this room, their agreement is really the only one that matters." Steve explained not unkindly but firmly so that everyone in the room knew how to behave, something that Owen did not appreciate if the dark look on his face was anything to go by.

"I don't even know why the deal fell through." Brock spoke up, his eyes on Sam, "one day you were at the cabin, leaving for a mission and the next thing I know  _no one_  knows where you are. What happened?" He sounded so sincere and confused that made the anger rise up in Sam.

"Shit!" Brock ducked as the whiskey bottle Sam previously held in her hand went flying pass his head to shatter against the wall behind him.

No one in the room spoke or moved, all eyes on Sam.

"Are you  _seriously_  asking that question?’ What happened?' I'll tell you what happened:" Sam held up her hand and started checking off Brock's slights against her, "1) you got rough with me that time in the kitchen when you slammed me into the wall, unknown to you, I had a huge bruise across the left side of my chest and my ribs ached, 2) you came to my workplace even though I explicitly told you not to, 3) you threatened to rape me and went as far as to put your hands on me and 4) now this is the fucking kicker, you allowed the  _torture_  of  _babies_  to happen. You knew what were in those files you gave me and you used them,  _babies_  as leverage."

Brock looked unapologetic, "I've done  _many_  horrible things in my lifetime; you saw it all the other files I gave you, why is  _that_  so different?"

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room at his words, Sam felt her eye twitch out of anger and flew up from her seat, her brown eyes flaring with raw anger, "fuck this shit I cannot stand to look at you any longer."

She left the room, her anger heard in her footsteps.

"Well that went well." Harry said dryly.

"Well enough that she's returning." Bucky said and all eyes turned to the living room where Sam appeared a few seconds later.

"On second thought," she made her way over to stand directly in front of Brock, making him have to tilt his bare his throat in order to look up at her. "You will go on missions with us and help us take down HYDRA."

The room was silent.

 _"What?!"_  Steve hissed at the same time Brock said 'yes,' with no hesitation.

Steve was up and out of his seat, grabbing Sam by her elbow and dragging her across the room, Natasha and Bucky getting up to crowd around them, effectively blocking 

"Sam  _what_  are you  _thinking_?!" He whispered-shout.

"I am thinking that he needs to see first-hand the horrors he helped create."

"But he was already giving us information." Bucky interjected.

"Yes, he was giving us information but there is a difference in between behind the curtain and being on the front-lines and I think it would do us all some good, especially me. Give him a chance to show that he's not in this for himself." Sam glanced over at him and their eyes met.

"He  _is_  doing this for himself; he wants you, that's the only reason he said 'yes.'" Natasha pointed out.

"Maybe at the start but let's see what happens after a while."

Breaking out from between her friends, Sam walked back over to Brock.

"Here's the deal, you're going to go on missions with the Avengers, you're going to assist them and give them all the information you have, no leaving out relevant information or twisting things to suit your benefit. You will be under the command of Captain Steven Grant Rogers-"

"Why the fuck I gotta babysit him?" Steve asked but was ignored by Sam who continued speaking as if he had not spoken.

"-and you  _will_  follow his word to the 'T.' Any questions or objections? Feel free to give your own solution but know that more than likely it will be rejected." Sam stood there, staring down at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"May I have some time to think about your offer?"

"You have  _two_  days." Sam snapped, "but know that no other offer will have you working alongside me."

Brock seemed to sit up straighter when he heard that."

Owen started at that, "bloody hell no!" 

"Shut up Owen, you have no say in this." Sam snapped, her eyes never leaving Brock's.

"I'll get back to with you with my answer by tomorrow."

"Fine, and Brock, should you step one toe out of line, I will put you down like the dog you are."

Brock grinned sharply, "I'd expect no less from you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owen Shaw is the same character from The Fast and The Furious movie franchise, "Fast 6."
> 
> I got his background from wikipedia.


	10. Let's All Get Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are more negotiations and a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all like this new chapter!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"Are you really thinking about teaming up with the Avengers to take down your old organization just because your soul-mate told you to?" Jack asked as he laid back on his bed, staring up at the designs on the ceiling in his and Brock's hotel room.

"Yes, I am." Brock responded, lying prone on his bed as well.

"Ok."

"And you're coming with me."

"..."

"You still alive over there?"

"Yeah, just trying to process what you just said to me."

"We're best friends jack, where I go, you go and if I have to team up with the Avengers guess what buddy, you're coming along for the ride."

"...don't I get a say in this?"

"Nope." Brock popped the 'p' a grin on his face, "the only two people whose opinions matter are mine and Sam's, everyone else will just have to get on board, no matter how unpleasant the situation is."

"And you're just loving that you'll get to spend time with Sam and be able to rub it in Owen's face."

Brock sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he sat facing Jack, a manic grin on his face.

"You have no idea, how much I am going to enjoy doing so."

"Oh I think I do, what with us being best friends and all."

* * *

"Are you  _really_  going along with this Steve?" Bucky was pacing the floor in front of the bed of his and Steve's shared hotel room, while Steve and Natasha sat on the bed watching him. "What the hell was Sam thinking?"

Steve looked tired, "I honestly don't know; I'm just as surprised as you are, but it's a bit too late to go back, not to mention I did say that only hers and Brock's opinions mattered. I never thought that she would come up with something like this arrangement, but I can kind of see why she did it. Brock's a well of HYDRA intel, so let's use him, like how he will be using this opportunity to get closer to Sam."

Bucky looked ready to argue but as he thought it over he could see the advantages.

"Allowing that fucking snake into our team, I make no promises that my finger won't slip on the trigger and I won't accidentally shoot him."

"You mean if Owen doesn't shoot him first?" Natasha asked, speaking for the since they got back to the hotel.

"Fucking hell." Bucky grabbed his hair and pulled on it, "I completely forgot about that other piece of drama. How the hell can Sam be married and not tell us?"

"That's a story for another day." Steve yawned and stretched, "all we can do right now is rest and prepare ourselves for tomorrow."

* * *

"What the bloody fuck got into your head?!" Owen hissed at Sam as she walked through the front door of her father's house. The mess from the night before had been cleaned up, not a trace of the attempted kidnapping was left.

Sam turned to her father with a bored expression, pointing at Owen, she asked "why is  _he_  still here?"

"I am still here because I want to know what the hell got into my wife's head thinking it's a good idea to team up with HYDRA, especially with the likes of Brock Rumlow."

"You like throwing that word around don't you?" Sam eyed Owen up and down in derision, "makes you feel as if you have some kind of claim over me."

"I just want to know  _why_  you would do something like that when it seems as if you want to get away from the man.  _Why_  put yourself in a situation where you will have to work closely with him?"

Sam ignored the question, instead choosing to ask one of her own, which she did just to piss Owen off even further.

"What's bothering you more: the fact that I am teaming up with an agent of HYDRA, the fact that that HYDRA agent is my soul mate or that he's Brock Rumlow? What exactly is your deal with him?"

Owen remained silent.

"Oh, cat got your tongue?" Sam mocked, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a step towards him. "You had so much to say before and a million questions, can't you answer one of mine? So which is it Owen?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." He turned to leave.

"Don't bother, you're not wanted or needed." Sam said maliciously and took sick glee in the slamming of the front door.

She turned around to make her way upstairs to see her father standing at the top.

"Why do you have to be so awful Sam?"

Sam rolled her eyes as she walked up the stairs, "he's big boy; he will get over it. Besides, if he divorces me I'll stop being mean."

"Did I really raise such a vindictive young lady?"

"I don't see why you're still so civil towards him, you know what he does for a living."

Her father sighed sadly, "we all have our pasts Sam."

That statement brought her up short.

"What the hell does that mean?"

The only answer she got to her question was the closing of Harry's bedroom door.

* * *

 

"Nope, nope,  ** _NOPE_**." Steve was shaking his head. "We already have to deal with your snake ass, we are not dealing with your friend's as well."

"Great because I don't even want to do it anyway." Jack said and grunted when Brock elbowed him hard in his side.

"I thought only mine and Sam's word mattered. You said so yourself." The shit eating grin on Brock's face made Sam have violent urges which Steve voiced.

"Wipe that grin off your face before I do it for you  _violently_."

"Gentlemen," Harry ever the voice of reason stepped forward with his hands raised, "settle down. Now Steve you did say that only Sam's and Brock's opinion mattered, you can't go back on that and Brock has agreed to Sam's idea with only  _one_  condition. Now, you may all not like it but think about the advantages you will have for having  _two_   _former_  HYDRA agents on your team."

"Former?" Sam and Bucky said that same time.

"Yes,  _former_." Harry said sternly. "This situation has gotten quite messy because strong feelings are at play-"

"If by 'strong feelings' you mean the urge to kill certain people in this room ," Sam interrupted him,  "then yes, strong feeling are at play."

"May I finish speaking without being interrupted?"

Sam made a 'go ahead' motion with her hand.

Harry sighed the sigh of a tired father, "a solution was proposed by Sam, which Brock accepted with one minor condition of his own. I know no one is happy, but it is what it is so everyone is going to get the chance to express their displeasure right now before you all start working with the enemy."

Steve's hand shot up startling Bucky who was sitting beside him.

"I'll go first. I am not looking forward to working with you, it might be beneficial to us all, but know this," Steve's eyes narrowed and his facial expression  _screamed_  murder, "if  _one_  of you step out of line,  _both_  of you will be put down."

"Appreciate the warning Rogers." Jack said, the smile on his face showing his contempt for Steve.

"Please, do step out of line so that I can kill you slowly and painfully." Bucky said, some of the  _Winter Soldier_  bleeding through his expression.

"Tasha, you got anything to say?" Sam asked her friend who had remained quiet since she arrived, simply observing the proceedings before her.

"No, I'll just deal with them when they cross me." The Black Widow responded.

"I have nothing more to say." Sam said. "Owen has no say in this." She added when her husband opened his mouth.

"Great, now let's seal the deal with a handshake."

Sam rolled her eyes and with great reluctance got up from her seat to meet Brock in the middle, taking his hand in hers, she couldn't help but feel how warm it was and his handshake was firm.

"I look forward to working with you." The sincerity in his voice took Sam by surprise.

Covering her surprise, she tightened her grip on his hand, watching as he minutely winced, Sam grabbed him by his jacket collar dragging him down and closer to her so that she could hiss into his ear, "I am going to make your life a living hell. That's a promise."

* * *

**_ Two weeks later _ **

 

"I am going to  _murder_ both of them _slowly_." Sam hissed.

"Sam, come on be rational, let's just calm down and think this over. There's no need for any blood to be spilled." Bucky tried to talk his friend down. "I almost think they deserve some retaliation, but murder is not the answer."

Sam spun around and glared at Bucky who actually shrank back at the evil glint her eyes.

"But it is Bucky." Sam sounded and looked crazed now.

"Sam, it was just baby pictures."

"It was  _NAKED_  baby pictures!"

"Cute naked baby pictures." Tony piped up from his work table.

"Shut the hell up Tony or you wife will be caught in the crossfire." Sam threatened from where she sat on the comfortable couch in Tony's lab. 

"Ohhh, better make sure Natasha never hear you say that."

"We both know she had a hand in leaking those pictures as well Tony." Bucky unhelpfully supplied.

"Shut up Bucsicle."

Sam dropped her head in Bucky's lap and covered her face with her hands, "I can't believe my father showed him those pictures! And then Steve the asshole sent them to everyone! Even fucking Thor all the way in fucking  _Asgard!"_

"Stop being such a drama queen Sam." Tony playfully chastised, "we all know there is only enough room for one drama queen in this tower and it's Steve and he did not send any pictures to Asgard.

Sam uncovered her face to look incredulously at Tony.

"Loki sent me a message saying and I quote 'you were such a darling little human baby, you mewling quim.'"

Tony stared at her, "I'll help you hide his body."

"Hey! His soul-mate is sitting right here!" Bucky pointed to himself.

 _"Pardon me sir," Jarvis_  interrupted,  _"but Captain Rogers require you all in the strategy room."_

"And here endeth the fun." Tony commented as he, Sam and Bucky made their way up to the strategy room.

"What have we got this time?" Sam asked as they stepped into the room, taking her usual seat between Bucky and Clint, keeping her head turned towards the head of the table where Steve was standing, she refused to so much as look out the corner of her eye at the two  _former_  HYDRA agents sitting across the table from her. She could feel occasional glances from Brock but other than that he only spoke when spoken to and offered up his thoughts in a respectful manner, never saying more than what needed to be said. This actually surprised Sam as she thought he would have taken this opportunity to needle her constantly. 

"A not so abandoned warehouse in Montana." Steve brought up a real-time aerial view of the warehouse on the screen behind him. "Brock and Jack informed us that is where weapons of biological and chemical natures are kept on ice until they are needed."

The room was silent.

Tony spun his chair to look at the two men sitting across the table.

" _'Weapons of biological and chemical natures'_  and you're just giving us this information?" His voice was hard.

Brock did not look affected at all. "I was going to provide you with this information when Sam got back from your last mission," here he turned his eyes to Sam, disgust shining in them and that was a new look Sam had seen him direct at her, "but she decided run home to daddy  before I had the chance to do so."

"Sure blame me you piece of shit." Sam countered.

"You're the one who went back on our deal."

Sam rolled her eyes, "this same old argument?"

"Well I'm sure with the time we'll be spending together, we will have many new ones."

"I should have put a bullet between your eyes when I had the chance."

"Yeah, you should have." Brock mocked.

"Better late than never."

No one could react fast enough when Sam shot up out of her seat, aimed a gun across the table at Brock and fired.

The gunshot was deafening and everyone remained still, waiting to see Brock keel over dead.

Brock sat stunned, eyes wide as he stared up at Sam's cold stare. He reached his fingers up to his cheek and it came away wet with his blood. 

"Oh, would you look at that, I missed." She sounded disappointed, but Brock knew this was just a warning, if she wanted to Sam could have taken off his entire head, considering she shot him at almost point blank range.

 _"Jesus Christ!_  Sam!" Steve was torn between shocked and angry. "Get your ass outside.”

“I only _grazed_ him.”

“Now, Sam!”

Sam placed her gun back the in waist of her pants at the small of her back and left the room, a fuming Steve behind her. 

"Natasha, take over the briefing."

Once outside the room, Steve whirled on Sam, "what the hell were you thinking?! No, scratch that, you weren't thinking. Why would you shoot at him?! He didn't do anything as yet that warranted him being shot!"

"He  _exists_! That warrants him being shot!" Sam shouted back. "And he keeps bringing up that stale argument about me running away. He makes me sound like a coward."

The anger went out of Steve once he heard that.

"You're not a coward Sam."

"I know that!" She snapped.

"Anyone in your position would have done what you did. You needed to get away and you did; probably a good thing too, if that incident a while ago was any indication."

"Yeah, I wasn't going to shoot him you know, just wanted to let him know that I'm not fucking around."

Steve laughed, "I think everyone got that."

Sam smiled, her anger dissipating.

"You good to go back inside?"

"Yeah." 

"Good, because we need you on this op."

They re-entered the room and all eyes turned to them, Sam ignored them as she retook her seat and Steve relieved Natasha.

"Those who will be going on this mission are myself, Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Jack."

He received nods from the aforementioned persons.

"Bruce, Tony, Brock and Clint will remain here since he is still recovering from broken ribs."

"This sucks." Clint complained.

"Then stop throwing yourself off of buildings. You're not a young circus acrobat anymore." Natasha teased and Clint flipped her off.

"Tony's going to be our eyes on the inside, Brock you're with Bruce, assist him with anything he requires." Steve paused, looking thoughtful then added, "and don't do anything to piss him off, I'd like the tower and its occupants to remain in one piece and unharmed."

"Please make him turn green." Sam mumbled under her breath, both Bucky and Steve turning to look at her,  _'damn super soldier hearing.'_

Steve sighed and shook his head, "everyone rest up, we depart at 0600 hours tomorrow morning."

As the room cleared, Jack walked alongside Brock, "sucks that the first mission Sam is helping out with, you're not in on it. Don't worry I'll make sure to tell her nothing but the good things about you."

"Why bother? Nothing anyone says will change her murderous intentions towards me." Brock touched the graze on his cheek, remembering how his heart had stopped when the gun went off.

* * *

Sam slept fitfully that night, she kept having nightmares about Riley being shot down by Brock and Owen, their cruel laughter ringing in her ears. After the fifth nightmare since she closed her eyes, Sam got out of bed at 4:28 A.M. and checked over her gear, making sure that everything was in working condition.

By 6:00 A.M. rolled around she was ready and the first one on the quinjet, strapping on her wings and mentally going through the plan until someone sat beside her. Glancing to her right Sam groaned.

"The fuck do you want?" 

Jack smiled good naturedly at her.

"I got minimal sleep last night and my coffee was not strong enough, so wipe that fucking smile off your face before I use my boot to do it for you."

"You know Brock's not such a bad guy once you get to know him." Jack said, ignoring Sam's threat as he checked his guns, something that caught Sam's eyes.

"I think that's the Stockholm syndrome talking and why the fuck did Steve allow you to have guns?"

"Because I need to be able to protect myself as well as have your and everyone else's backs when we go storming that warehouse. And trust me, there's no stockholm syndrome where Brock and I are concerned. Our solid ass friendship was built on having to watch each other's backs, when we had no one else out there with us in the desert.

"Good for you both, now fuck off, I don't need Brock's better half trying to be friends with me."

Jack laughed and made his way over to another seat close to the back of the quinjet, his eyes though never leaving Sam.

* * *

They had been flying for about forty minutes when Tony's voice was heard over the intercom.

"Looking good guys and gals, Sam fix your face or it will be stuck that way."

Sam flipped him off without looking up from the mission dossier she was reading.

"And Brock's significant other, stop staring at Sam."

Sam's head snapped up to glare at Jack who was suddenly looking around the interior of the quinjet, trying to find the cameras.

"Thank you Tony." Steve said exasperatedly.

"Aye captain!"

"Listen up, we are ten minutes away from the warehouse, Sam this is where we drop you off."

Sam nodded and stood up, putting on her goggles, Bucky opened the door to the quinjet and the interior was filled with roaring air. Whereas everyone else squinted and tried blocking their eyes from the wind Sam allowed it to engulf her. Walking to the door, Sam turned around so her back was facing nothing but free-fall, stretching out her arms to the side she allowed gravity to pull her backwards where she fell, flipped twice and once she was out of the quinjet range, she spread her wings and flew.

"Did you see that?" Jack asked into his comm, awe in his voice.

"I did." Brock's voice sounded in his ear piece.

Brock saw the entire thing thanks to the cameras in the quinjet that were linked to the computer terminal in the strategy room where he was currently helping Bruce and Tony.

"That was fucking beautiful." He breathed, eyes trained on the computer screen.

"Indeed it was." Bruce agreed and smiled when Brock blushed, remembering that he was not alone.

* * *

The intel that Brock and Jack provided was accurate; the team got into the warehouse without any problems, they took down all the guards and scientists on site and secured all the weapons. The mission was a success and everyone was riding high on the accomplishment.

"Never thought I'd be on the other side of this business." Jack commented as he took in some of the shocked and angry faces of his former co-workers.

Sam sidled up beside him, "well get used to it; there's a lot more of this to come."

"Great job everyone." Steve praised, "let's get out of here, Tony's clean-up crew can handle the rest."

As the team left the warehouse, walking back to the quinjet, they were unaware of eyes on them, or at least on a particular member of their team:  _Sam_.

They were unaware of the sniper rifle aimed at her.

They were unaware of the glint of the scope of the sniper rifle that was aimed at her.

However, they all heard the crack of the gunshot and became aware that something was amiss when Sam yelled in pain and dropped to the ground, blood escaping between her from the wound created by the bullet that ripped through her.


	11. You're Like Poison In My Blood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men, one woman...not like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all like this new chapter!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam sat on the hospital bed, waiting to be released from the medical wing of the tower, her gunshot wound no longer aching like a bitch was now down to a dull throb and her mind was reeling as to who had shot her. Everything regarding the mission went according to plan, it was afterwards, heading back to the quinjet that someone shot her in other words they had nothing to do with the HYDRA facility.

Whoever shot her wasn't even trying to kill or seriously injury her; to Sam it felt like a  _warning_ , someone taunting her and her team, saying  _'I can get to you.'_  The question was though: why target her? She wasn't the only human in the team that day, so why?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a visitor, turning her head Sam felt a headache begin to form.

"What are you doing here Owen? Who even called you?"

Owen stood in the door way of her room, holding a bouquet of sunflowers, her favourite. He was just downright playing dirty now as she eyed them.

"Well, Steve called your father and he called me, asking if I could come out here and check on you on his behalf."

Sam rolled her eyes, "damn Steve," she muttered. "And why couldn't my dad have come to check on me?"

"He's back in London, apparently there was a major car accident, so it's all hands on deck. He couldn't fly out and I was already in the country."

"In the country doing what?" Sam held up a hand, "never mind do not answer that. I'm good, all patched up, so you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and I will inform him of my well-being."

Sam turned her back to him, but heard his footsteps as he walked further into the room, until he was standing in front of her, standing so close that her knees brush the fabric of his jeans pants.

His blues eyes shone brightly in the harsh lights on the medical room and Sam could not help but think about how much more handsome he had gotten over the years.

"My heart stopped when I heard that you had been shot."

Sam could not ignore the sincerity in his captivating blue eyes and the concern clear as day on his face. Owen might have been a criminal, but if it’s one thing Sam could always been sure of it was that Owen had always cared for her. 

She remembered when he first approached her while she was trying to reach a textbook on a high shelf in her favourite bookstore, she felt heat and a strong body brush behind her, instincts kicking in Sam had elbowed him hard in his rib-cage, hearing him grunt in pain and back away as she spun around, ready to lay into him, only to come face to face with one of the most gorgeous men she had every laid eyes on.

Sam remembered him hurriedly explaining that he saw her struggling and wanted to assist, something he should have asked permission to so that he didn't get his ass beaten. She had blushed and apologised, Owen had found it funny and still took down the book for her. 

After their initial meeting in the bookstore, they began seeing each other; their relationship evolving from that of friends and blossoming into that lovers who chose to share their lives with each other for the rest of their lives...well, that is until Sam found out the truth about Owen and his extracurricular activities.

Coming back from her trip down memory lane, Sam's face had soften, she was about to say something when she noticed that Owen's eyes were no longer on her but glaring at something or  _someone_ behind her. 

Sighing Sam turned around only to see a murderous looking Brock standing at the door.

"What is it Brock?"

"Steve sent me to come and get you." He answered, sharp gaze never leaving Owen.

Sam did not believe that, " _Steve_  sent  _you_ to get  _me_?"

He looked at her then, "I might have pleaded with him."

Owen snorted, "resorting to begging now are we mate."

Brock ignored him, "you've been cleared to leave."

"Ok, great." Sam needed to get away from these two before she lost her mind. She slid of the bed, only then remembering how close Owen was standing when she became trapped between him and the hospital bed, instantly recalling other much pleasurable times when she was caught between his hard body and an even harder place.

She shuffle out from between him and the bed and began walking to the door.

"Sam."

"Yes?" She turned around.

"You forgot these." Owen came towards her and placed the flowers in her arms, "I know how much you like them. Stay safe."

He then did something that left her stunned, Owen leaned down faster than she could react and gave her a quick chaste kiss on her lips. He then exited the room, walking pass a fuming Brock.

Sam stared after him, her fingers on her lips; that was the first time in ten years that she had kissed him.

Brock looked at her, his eyes hard.

"Keep looking at me like that and I  _will_  blind you." Sam said coldly as she walked pass him, exiting the medical room and walking towards the elevator, planning on going to her apartment in the tower where she was intended on showering and then sleeping until the end of time. 

Brock walked behind her, keeping a respectable distance.

The elevator arrived and Sam got on followed by Brock. She leaned back against the elevator wall and closed her eyes, the events of the day were catching up to her and feeling Brock's eyes on her was not helping the situation. 

 _'Maybe entering a small enclosed box with him was not the smartest of ideas.'_ She thought.

"What?"

"I have something for you."

Sam opened her eyes and saw that Brock was facing her, a small white box in his outstretched hands. 

"What is it?"

He opened the box and her eyes widened, "Riley, I figured you'd want the lil' guy back."

Sam closed her eyes tight, Riley, he brought her little guardian angel wind-chime.

"Thank you." She took the box from him and held it close to her chest.

"You are welcome."

Just then the elevator arrived at the common room of the floor she shared with Steve and Bucky. The former was currently in a deep conversation with Bruce. They looked over as she and Brock walked further into the room.

"It's good to see you in once piece and unharmed Brock." Steve commented, the total opposite of his words on his face.

"Not for a lack of trying, I am just too damn tired to deal with anymore fuckers today." 

"Pretty flowers, who are they from?" Bruce asked, his eyes looking up and down, more than likely checking her over for injuries.

"No one." Sam said as she walked to the garbage bin in the kitchen and dropped them in it.

"Ok, what's in the box then?"

Sam sighed as she gingerly lowered herself on the couch and stretched out along it. 

"Nothing's in the box Bruce."

"So why do you have it?"

"Do we know who shot me?" She fired back, eyes closed.

She heard a sigh from Steve, "no, Tony is going through satellite images to see who else a part from us were in the vicinity when you were shot. In the meantime, I want you to compile a list of enemies, anyone who may have a grudge against you and for what."

Sam chuckled mirthlessly, "well Brock, both you and Jack should count your lucky stars since you both have solid alibis. However, put Owen's name at the top of the list.

"Owen? As in your  _husband,_ that Owen." The shock was clear day in Bruce's voice.

"That little bitch is so vindictive I would not put it pass him to pull some shit like this. It still burns him that I left his ass."

"Other than Owen, Jack and I, is there anyone else who has a grudge against you or..." Brock trailed off.

"Or?" Sam kept her eyes closed

"Or maybe against your father?" 

Her eyes snapped open and Sam jack knifed up from the couch, causing the three men in the room to jump and she herself wincing in pain from jostling her wound.

Sam's eyes were wide as she seem to remember something.

"Sam?" Steve looked at Bruce and signalled for him to do something about their friend's sudden behaviour.

"Sam?"

"My father made an odd comment the other night that  **'we all have our pasts'**  I asked him what he had meant but he just ignored me."

"You should go and talk with your father, maybe he knows something." Steve suggested but Sam shook her head in the negative. 

"My father will evade any questions we may ask him if he has something to hide; ask Tony to dig as deep as possible instead."

"Are you sure you want to go that route Sam?" Bruce ever the voice of reason. "you may find something you don't like or should not see."

Sam shrugged, "what other choice do we have?"

* * *

 

Three days later after being shot, Sam was back in D.C. with Steve and Bucky and back at work. She was finishing the last of her backlogged reports when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Surprise."

Sam's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing instantly when they landed on Brock.

"The fuck are you doing here Rumlow?"

Brock strolled in as if he owned the place, shutting the door with his foot. "I was in the neighbourhood, thought I'd drop by." He dropped a bag of fast food on her desk and sat in one of the visitor's chair in front of her desk.

"I already ate." She said icily.

"Great, because this is for me." Brock grabbed the bad and took out a sandwich, wrapped it and took a big bite from it. "So, how's your day going?" He asked after swallowing (he may have been a HYDRA agent but his mother brought him up with manners).

"I thought I told you never to set foot close to where I work?"

"Well I figured that went out the window the moment our deal was broke."

Sam rolled her eyes, "that again."

"I respected your wishes when the deal was intact, now that it's in tatters well..." he shrugged in a way that Sam interpreted as ' _what can you do.'_  

"Actually you did not respect my wishes." Sam leaned back in her chair, her report laid forgotten on her desk between them, her eyes hard and on Brock. "Remember that night I came home, you were drunk and you threatened to rape me?"

Brock's eyes narrowed at that reminder.

"Well you revealed that you were at my workplace that same afternoon; so you can take your "respect" and fuck off right on out of my office and my life."

"Not a chance sweetheart."

"Ohh fucker, I am  _not_  your sweetheart."

"You are right; you are so much more than that."

"Not as if anything is going to come out of it." Sam smiled maliciously.

"Wanna bet?" The smile on Brock's face was cheeky.

"I'd rather shove a cactus up my cunt." Sam said in all seriousness.

Brock threw his head back and laughed, "Wilson you are something else and as much as I know you would prefer to shove a prickly cactus up your no doubt glorious pussy, I can think of something much better to shove up it." The look he gave her said it all; he would fuck her hard and raw if ever given the chance.

"I grew up around  _a lot_  of men, I was in the Air Force, my best friend was a man and I  _am married,_  so guess what Brock, do not think that the little thing between your legs is anything to brag about."

"Well you never know until you try it." Brock spread his legs, sliding his hand down to his belt.

Sam raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "I will let you in on a little secret; Owen destroyed me for all other men not to mention the most glorious cock I have ever seen belongs to Steve Rogers, so I highly doubt yours is anything to write home about."

And that right there is what Sam was looking for, Brock's eyes narrowing in jealously. 

"You sure are something else Wilson."

"I know." The smile on Sam's face was unkind. "Now get the fuck out of my office so that I can finish working."

Brock must have been really upset by Sam's comment about seeing Steve's cock, by the way he wordlessly got up and after collecting his trash he quietly exited her office. Sam sat back in her chair, feeling deflated due to the unwanted visit.

* * *

Later that evening, Sam arrived back at her house around 6:28 P.M. to find a note from Steve and Bucky that they had gone out for dinner. Seeing that she had the place to herself, Sam began walking up the stairs, pulling her blouse out of her pants waist, plans in her head to have a nice, relaxing, hot bath to soothe her mind, body and soul when the doorbell rang.

"Fuck my life." She had just set foot on the landing and turned to look back at the door, hoping that whoever was out there would go away if she pretended not to be home. 

"Sam, I know you're home."

Her eyes widened when she heard the familiar voice and tore down the stairs, her fury building back up.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" She hissed once the door was open to reveal Owen.

"I just wanted to talk." Owen's eyes looked her up and down, "but I can see that you just got in."

Sam crossed her arms across her chest and leaned her hip against the door jam. "Yeah, I just got in after a long and tiring day after dealing with another unwanted visitor-"

"Unwanted visitor? Who?" Owen interrupted her.

"-And all I want to do right now is bathed and go to sleep." She continued, ignoring Owen's question.

"Brock came to see you? When?"

"Oh my-"Sam dragged her hands down her face, "I do not have time for this, you or him. I am tired and all I want to do right now is pass out. Good bye."

Owen reached out and grabbed her wrist in a loose hold. "Sam, please wait."

Sam eyed the hand on her wrist, "you wanna take that hand off of me before I snap it off at the wrist?"

"Just give me a minute of your time."

Sighing, Sam opened the door and motioned for Owen to get in the house.

"You have  _sixty seconds_." Sam said after she closed the door and turned to face him.

"Have dinner with me."

"This is what you had to speak to me about?" The disbelief was clear in her voice.

"Sam, have dinner with me, let me show you that I am still the same man that you married, the man you met all those years ago. The man who taught you how to ride a bike and did not bat an eyelid when you wrecked his  _Ducati_."

Sam chuckled at the memory, she had been so concerned for the bike whereas Owen was more concerned for her and the fact that she was showing a lack of concern for the blood that was gushing from her head wound.

Owen took the fact that she had chuckled at the memory as a good sign and took a step closer to her.

"All I am asking for is dinner, nothing else. I pick you up, we go somewhere casual, nothing fancy, we have good food, talk, maybe go for a walk and then I bring you back here."

Sam leaned back on the door, her hand went to the chain around her neck and toyed with it, considering Owen's request.

"Is that-is that your  _wedding_  ring?"

She stopped playing with the necklace to look at him; Owen's eyes were staring at something intently below her face and her mind right then and there registered his question. She had forgotten that she wore her wedding ring on the very same chain that held the silver heart locket Riley had given her exactly one year before he died.

"You still have your ring." Owen looked as if he were in a trance as he stepped closer to her and Sam had nowhere to go considering her back was literally against the door.

He reached out his hand and grasped the ring between his thumb and index finger, staring at the platinum sapphire and diamond wedding band as if it held all the answers to the universe and she gasped when his eyes suddenly snapped up to meet hers; steel blue looking at chocolate brown.

"You wear the ring I gave you as a symbol of my promise to love, cherish, honour and stay with you for the rest of my life around your neck and you want a divorce? You want me to leave you alone?"

Sam did not have a chance to react before he was on her. Owen captured her lips in a hard and demanding kiss, he wrapped his arms around her body and crushed it to his, demanding entrance to her mouth with his tongue which she gave. He backed her into the door and Sam remembered what it was like the first time she was held in these arms, the first time they made love, how he had been so tender and strong; tender in how he had gently entered her virgin body and strong in how he had held her up against the wall as he did so.

She felt herself responding to his onslaught, however, when she felt the evidence of his arousal press against her stomach she broke the kiss, pushed him away from her and made her way into the living room, putting the couch and centre table between them. 

Owen was stunned at her actions as he watched her from the living room door way, her back to him as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

"Sam-"

_"Leave."_

"Sam, please-"

"Get out Owen. I am tired and I cannot deal with you right now."

Knowing he was beat, Owen retreated and Sam did not turn around until she heard the front door close and the engine of Owen's car disappear down the road. 

* * *

"So what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

Sam was currently lying down on her bed with her head in Bucky's lap, enjoying him running his fingers through her hair.

"About Owen." He clarified. “Apart from knowing that he is a world famous criminal, I do not know what happened between you and him but it seems that he really wants back in your life. So why not give him another chance?"

"He does not deserve a second chance. Not to mention that he is at the top of my list of possible people who shot me."

"Well considering that you married him, I am sure that there is something about him worth giving him a second chance and there is the possibility that he did not shoot you. He wants you back and from what I have seen of your interactions, he does not seem to want to hurt you." Steve decided to chime in.

Sam held up her head to glare at him. "What part of I married him when I was young and found out years later about his true nature did not understand? He hurt me enough before by lying to me."

Steve held up his hands, "I heard all that and I understand it, but he is still your husband-"

"And Brock is still my soul-mate, think I should give him a chance as well Rogers?" Sam snapped.

The room was quiet, neither men knowing what to say as Sam did have a valid point.

"Besides, there is someone out there wanting to hurt me or see me dead. I do not think that it is such a good idea to put myself out in the open like that even if I did want to give him a second chance." Sam said quietly and Steve squeezed her ankle from his position at the bottom of her bed.

The solemn quiet was broken by the ringing of Sam's phone.

_"Don't touch my phone. Can I touch it? Can I touch it?"_

"Am I allowed to touch it?" Bucky asked with an amused grin and Sam slapped him lightly. "Just give me the damn thing." She answered it without looking at who was calling. "Hello?"

_"Sam, it's Owen."_

Sam removed the phone from her ear and pinched the bridge of her nose, she then replaced it. 

"I know who it is. What do you want?"

_"Well, earlier when I asked you to have dinner with me I realised it was a stupid idea."_

Sam raised an eyebrow at her two friends, knowing that their super soldier hearing could hear the other side of the conversation and they did not even bother to try and hide that they were listening.

"Oh? And why do you say that?" She was genuinely curious.

_"There is someone out there who wants to do you harm, so I should have offered to cook dinner at your place. I could come over, cook and we can enjoy a nice home cooked meal and each other's company. What do you say?"_

She looked at both her companions who did not offer any advice on what she should do. So biting the bullet Sam opened her mouth and said "yes."

_"Yes?"_

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Tomorrow at 6:00 P.M. I will get rid of my roommates."

_"Great, that's great. Thank you Sam. See you tomorrow."_

Sam disconnected the call and glared at Steve. "If anything goes wrong, I am blaming you."


	12. A Better Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wish you were a better man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MENTIONS OF ABORTION!!! DO NOT READ IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU!!!! 
> 
> "Better Man" by: Little Big Town
> 
> I hope that you all like this new chapter!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam looked at herself in the full length mirror in her walk-in closet and liked what she saw. She had on a simple pair of dark blue jeans, with a white cotton spaghetti strap camisole, small silver hoop earrings, she left her feet bare. It was five minutes before Owen was due to arrive and she was sort of looking forward to his delicious cooking, just not the company. 

The breeze blew gently through Sam's open bedroom window, making Riley tinkle softly.

"Are you watching over me Riley?" she brushed her fingers over the little angel that she had hung in her bedroom by the window. "Going to make sure this dinner goes right and does not end with everything on fire?"

Just then she heard her doorbell.

"Time to get this show on the road."

* * *

 

"You look beautiful." Owen said by way of greeting when Sam opened the door.

She looked him up and down, giving away nothing from her blank expression. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"I clean up nice. I know." Owen smirked and Sam rolled her eyes.

"Just get in."

Owen did as told and walked directly to the kitchen, arms loaded with bags of groceries.

"Need help with anything?" Sam asked as she trailed behind him.

"No, you just make yourself comfortable and I will take care of everything."

"Ok." Sam took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"No," Owen gently eased her off the stool, "not in here. Go sit in the living room. Oh, and here." He took a bottle of her favourite wine out of a cooler she had not noticed and poured her a glass. "Sip on this while I get the food ready."

Sam took the glass, an amused smile on her face, "careful Owen, I might just keep you around if you treat me like this."

Owen said nothing as he gently escorted her out of the kitchen and into the living room.

She could hear Owen moving around in the kitchen as she sipped on the wine he gave her. She was not hungry before, but soon, the delicious aromas of a familiar dish drifted into the living room and her stomach growled.

"I hope the food is almost ready because I am hungry now!" She shouted from her spot on the couch.

"Just five more minutes and it will be ready." 

Sam tilted her head back to see that Owen had entered the living room. He braced his hands on the back of the couch and leaned over her.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He had a gentle look on his face.

Sam snorted, "I am the one drinking wine on an empty stomach." She chugged the rest of the wine as if to prove a point. "Shouldn't it be me getting all lovey-dovey?" 

"Well you always could hold your liquor."

"True that."

Owen sighed and left the room, Sam assumed he went back to the kitchen as she soon heard movement from the kitchen to her dining room and back. A few seconds later he came back.

"Come on now, food's ready."

Sam walked into her rarely used dining room to see that Owen had covered the table with a white silk table cloth, there were two lit candles, as well as fine china laid out that she knew she did not own and covered pots. Something in her chest warmed at the knowledge that he had bought all this just for a dinner with her, but as soon as the feeling came, she stomped it out, knowing that going down that road where Owen was concerned was dangerous.

Owen pulled out her chair for her and poured another glass of wine for her.

"Prepared to be amazed." He lifted the lid off of one of the pots and Sam's eyes widened when she recognised what she was smelling before.

"Owen..." she was at a loss for words.

"I remember what you like Sam and I knew this is your favourite."

"Owen, you made the meal we had the first evening on our honeymoon."

"And I remembered how much you loved it that I went back to Italy and bribed the chef for his recipe so that I could make it for you." 

"Fucking hell Owen." She had no idea what to say to that revelation.

Owen smiled brightly and Sam was almost blinded by it. "I know, I am amazing. Enjoy."

The estranged married couple, sat there eating amicably, enjoying good food, wine and each other's company, sharing bits and pieces of information of their lives since their split with each other, but made sure to keep the atmosphere light. 

* * *

"That was wonderful." Sam praised, pushing her plate away from her after her third helping, Owen had her beat by four helpings and she had no idea where he put his food.

"I know! I feel so lazy right now." Owen, slouched down in his chair and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

"Ok," Sam pushed away from the table and got to her feet. "You be lazy, I will wash the dishes."

"I can help. I can help." 

Sam looked at him amused, "you sure?"

"I can at least dry while sitting down."

Sam smiled and shook her head, gathering the dirty dishes, she walked into the kitchen, Owen following her slowly. 

Once the dishes were done, they both retired to the living room, each with a glass of wine. Sam sat at one end of her couch and Owen sat at the other, turning so that he could look at her.

Sam sipped her wine and stared back at him, a challenge shining in her eyes.

"Have I told how  _beautiful_ you are?" Owen breathed.

"Second time for this evening, but many times before that."

Silence enveloped them for a few seconds before it was broken again by Owen.

"Where did we go wrong?"

"The first day you met me and lied to me." Sam did not miss a beat.

"Wow," Owen swirled the wine in his glass, "it all comes back to that."

"You cannot build a relationship, a  _marriage_  on lies. Especially one so big." Sam shot back.

"Oh, you want to talk about  _lies_?" The glint in his eyes was dangerous and he was not about to back down, "I am still waiting up for you to 'fess up about what you took from me."

"Took from you?" The confusion was clear in Sam's voice and the tilt of her head.

Owen slammed down his wine glass on the coffee causing wine to splash over the rim and onto the coffee table, both he and Sam ignored the mess as he got up from the couch to pace in front of it, tension rolling off of him in waves as Sam's eyes followed him.

"You knew," he turned on her, his body language screaming aggression as he pointed at her, "you  _knew_  you were pregnant and yet you still went up there, had a bomb go off in mid-air a few feet from you and because of the impact you loss our child. No," there was a hard glint in Owen's eyes as he stared down Sam, "you  _killed_  our child. The  _only_  child we would have had and because of your selfishness it was _murdered_."

Sam closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The only sound in the room was Owen's harsh breathing. Throwing back the rest of her wine, Sam slammed her glass down on the coffee table and stood up, it may not have done much for her in regards to the comparison of Owen's towering height over her, but it showed him that she had no intentions of backing down from this fight he had started and that she was sure as hell going to finish it with the killing blow.

"Two."

It was Owen’s turn now to be confused, "two what?"

"Two babies, I've killed two babies."

Owen's face went pale and blank and Sam was actually concerned that he was having a stroke from the shock of her words.

_"What?"_

"Three weeks after I left you, I discovered that I was pregnant and had an abortion. Riley begged me to keep it, not to get rid of it; that you and I could work things out. At the time he didn't know why I was leaving you; figured it was due to irreconcilable differences."

"You know, people who meet you and place you on this goddamn pedestal." Owen raised his hand as if to illustrate his words. "And they have no idea the kind of  _demon_ you can be. Rogers included."

"I think this is where we call it a night, before things get even uglier."

"Oh, you mean like me telling you that you and Brock are a perfect match for each other?" Owen thought his world had ended when he found out that she was pregnant and had lost their baby that first time, but to learn that she aborted their  _other_  baby, oh he wanted to  _hurt her._  "Or the fact that when I heard what happened to Riley, I was  _ecstatic_?"

"Owen." Sam warned.

"I was thrilled thinking that my wife would come back home to me but no,” he spread his arms out and dropped them, “nothing." He looked tired and his eyes were starting to look red and shiny with tears. "I am hurt Sam, _hurt_. My wife found out about my not so legal activities and she left me and found solace in another man's arms. So I am hurt, vindictive and jealous."

"I have never been with Riley in that way."

 _"What?"_  Owen whispered disbelievingly 

"You heard me. You are the only man that I have ever been with, lain with, slept with, fucked." Sam threw her hands up in the air. "I may have left your ass, but I never disrespected our marriage,  _our vows_  by having an affair."

She let that sink in before adding the kicker.

"And if I did want to have an affair, I would have been barking up the wrong tree with Riley."

"What'd you mean?"

"Riley was straight up gay."

The look on Owen's face would have been hilarious if Sam could not feel the hurt that was coursing through her body as she stared at the man in front of her.

"Oh."

"Yes,  _'oh.'_ "

"I am sorry Sam."

She was feeling tired all of a sudden and walked back over to the couch and collapsed on it.

"Save you apologies Owen, you spoke what you were truly feeling, no shame in that."

"Sam," Owen knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his, "I am still in love with you Sam. I love you, always have and always will. What have you got to lose by coming back to me?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "how about my soul?" She deadpanned.

His eyes hardened, "you might have lost that the moment you decided to go on a mission while knowing you were pregnant or when you left me and decided to abort our unborn child without informing me that you were pregnant."

She pulled her hands from his and pushed him hard so he fell back on his ass, his elbows knocking harshly into the floor. Owen watched as she walked out of the living room and towards the front door. Sam turned and looked at him, tears in her eyes.

"You know, sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again; but knowing the damage you could have done to me, _have done to me_ , we both knew that running was the bravest thing I could have ever done." 

"It was cowardice Sam, not  _brave_." Owen spat the word at her.

She laughed mirthlessly, "I remember it, all the times you talked down to me, after that day, like I would always be around, you never thought I'd run did you. We might still be in love if you were a better man."

He pushed himself up off of the floor and walked towards her, "I can be a better man." He cupped her face in his hands, "just give me a chance and this time I will do it right. I will do right by you and the children we never got to meet."

The tears they had been holding back since the conversation turned ugly began to fall.

Owen pulled Sam to him and she went willingly, allowing him to wrap her tightly in his arms.

"I can do better. We can do better." He said as he stroked her hair. "I love you Sam. I love you so much and I will never stop loving you."

“No.” She shook her head and broke away from his arms. Stepping back she opened the door. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Sam.”

“Please Owen, just go.”

Owen grabbed his jacket and as he walked out of her house.

“Owen.”

He turned towards Sam, hope flaring in his eyes that she had changed her mind, but her next words were like a bucket of cold water being thrown on him.

“There are days when I wish I had _never_ stepped foot into that warehouse. Days when I wish I was still ignorant of your true colours.” The look on her face was heart-breaking. “But the past cannot be changed.”

“No, it cannot.”

“Our future, my future can be changed though. I want a divorce Owen.”

He smiled bitterly, “not a chance in hell Sam.”

“I thought so.”

Sam closed the door and slid down it, bringing her knees up to her chest she wrapped her arms around them and sobbed, never knowing that her husband sat outside on the other side until he heard her stop crying and went upstairs.


	13. Setting The World On Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain down the hellfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs around like a bunny on crack, hollering at the top of my lungs* NEW CHAPTER!!!! 
> 
> I hope that you all like this new chapter!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam was dead asleep after exhausting herself both mentally and emotionally with that catastrophic dinner with Owen. That is why she  _felt_  the blast before she heard anything. One minute she was on her bed, warm and comfortable under her blankets, the next her bed was violently rocked and she was thrown to the floor, the place shaking as if there was an earthquake.

She was awoken instantly, looking around in alarm. The furniture in her room shook, her dresser moved from the wall, her perfume bottles and other items falling from it and shattering on the floor. The pictures that hung on her wall, fell, the glass frames shattering on impact.

Her neighbours car alarms were going off like crazy.

"What the fuck?!"

Getting up she went to her bed room door and opened it, only to be met by an  _inferno_. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked beyond the staircase railing to the downstairs of her home.  _Everything was on fire._  

She could not believe it. Her home was on  _fire._ The entire downstairs from what she could see was in flames, so there was no way out down there; nothing down there waiting for her but death.

"Shit."

The heat was intense and the smoke stifling, she knew that she had to get out before there was another explosion and before the fire spread to the upstairs.

Flinging the door shut, Sam ran to her bedroom window and threw it open, she saw that her neighbours were spilling out of their houses in fright and she could hear sirens in the distance. She was examining the distance she would have to jump when there was another explosion that knocked her to the floor and Sam looked up to see that the bedroom door was now on fire.

Knowing she had no time left, Sam grabbed Riley from his hook by the window, hoisted herself up on the ledge of her window and jumped. she landed and rolled, and got back up, running across the road. Once she was a good distance away, she turned to look at the blaze and her heart broke. Her first house which she had bought on her own, made memories in, had her most prized possessions in was on fire and there was nothing she could do about it.

A few seconds later there was another blast, smaller this time and Sam watched in horror as her home imploded. The sound of concrete and steel collapsing on itself was audible. 

She did not know how long she stood there, numb as firefighters rushed to put out the fire. That seemed like a waste of time and effort to her, because everything had been destroyed in less than a minute. Sam only became aware of her surroundings once again when she felt a hand on her shoulder turning her to look into the wide concerned blue eyes of Steve.

"Sam, are you alright?"

"No." She managed to say over the roar of the sirens, the still blazing fire and the crowd that had gathered. "Someone tried to kill me Steve. They set my house on  _fire_."

"We need to catch this bastard and soon." Bucky appeared out of nowhere, like the assassin he was trained to be.

Sam turned to look back at the fiery remains. "We need to go over our list of suspects."

"And we need to get you out of here." Steve said. "Whoever took a shot at you and set your house on fire could still be around."

"Steve's right Sam, we need to get you to safety."

"Safety?" She scoffed.

"Yes, safety." Steve emphasised. "The Tower is impenetrable. We can go there right now. More than likely Tony has already heard about this."

Sam spun back around to face him "Tony had  _Jarvis_  hooked up to my place, so why was an intruder not detected?"

Steve swore, "ok, we are getting out of here now."

* * *

Two hours later found the trio walking into Avengers Tower, Natasha and Tony greeting them.

"Sam, I am so sorry." Tony apologised, "I have no idea how the asshole got around  _Jarvis."_

"It's ok." She was bone-tired; but she knew that if she went to bed right now, she would just toss and turn until morning. She needed something to do right now. "No one could have seen this coming. We just need to look over our list of suspects and broaden those of Owen, Brock and Jack. Whoever is trying to get to me, could be doing this because of them. Maybe an enemy of Owen or a former ally of Brock and Jack found out about what I am to them and is trying to extract revenge." Her mind was going a mile a minute at the new possibilities arising, something her friends took notice of.

"All that will be taken care of in the morning." Tony placed his hands on her shoulder and leaned down so that they were eye to eye. "Right now, you are in shock and need some rest."

Sam began to shake her head in the negative.

"Tony knows what he is talking about." Natasha came to stand by them, "even if you don't sleep, at least go and lay down, rest your body and try to shut off your mind for a little while. You are safe here."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, "no one would be foolish enough to take on myself, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Brock and Jack all in one go." 

That got her attention.

"Brock and Jack are here?”

"Yeah, Clint, Natasha, Brock and Jack just returned about two hours ago from a mission out in Nevada. Why?"

Steve knew what Sam was getting at and spoke up. "That means that they would not have had the opportunity to go to D.C., set Sam's house on fire and get back here without being detected."

"I make sure that  _Jarvis_ monitors them constantly when they are in the Tower."

"So, I guess that means they are off the suspect list." Sam dragged her hand through her hair, all the events in the last few hours hitting her full force. "I need to call my dad."

"I will do that." Steve volunteered. "You need to go and rest."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"I will walk you up." Bucky volunteered.

Sam shot a grateful look in Bucky direction and she fell into step beside him as they walked towards the elevator.

Steve, Natasha and Tony stared at them, waiting until the elevator doors were closed before saying anything.

"We need to find this bastard and soon. This was too close a call." Steve was enraged about the situation and worried for his friend's safety and mental health.

Tony nodded his head in agreement.

"She lost everything tonight. Yes, they were material possessions but still..." Steve trailed off.

"I get what you're saying Cap, I will have  _Jarvis_  pull up the satellite images around her house and see if we can find this son of a bitch."

"In the meantime, I will see what I can find out about the people in Owen's, Brock's and Jack's lives." Natasha was cross, first the asshole shot Sam and then burn down her house with her still inside of it. "Let's see if anyone apart from us might know about Sam's connection to them and what their grudge might be."

* * *

Sam was in the common room kitchen the next morning, eating breakfast with Steve and Bucky, when Brock walked in shirtless, his pyjama pants hanging low on his hips so that the 'V' cut of his hips were prominently displayed. His hair was all over the place and it was testimony that he was not fully awake by the half-hearted wave he gave to the occupants of the room and the way he sleepily rubbed his eyes.

The conversation that Bucky was having with Sam came to a sudden halt when she caught sight of Brock's state and condition, her spoon stopping half way to her mouth as she drank in the sight of him. 

Bucky turned to see what she was looking at and when he did he turned back to her, his eyebrow raised and a sly smile on his lips.

"Lusting after the enemy, are we?" He said low so that only she and Steve heard.

"Oh, shut up." She blushed hard, "any woman with a pulse would be distracted by all that."

"Remember that you are a married woman Sam." Steve teased her.

"I can look, so long as I don't touch."

"Touch what?" Brock sat at the table along with the others, a large cup of steaming black coffee in front of him.

Steve and Bucky watched him as he raised the cup to his mouth.

"Prepare to be amazed at what a sip of coffee can do for this guy so early in the morning."

Sam watched as he took a sip and swallowed, and it was like something out of a cartoon. Brock suddenly became aware of his surroundings and as soon as his eyes landed on her, he seemed even more awake.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" His eyebrows scrunched up and he looked adorable, something Sam would never admit out loud.

"You're not a morning person?" She asked instead of responding to his question. 

Brock shrugged, "I  _detest_  mornings. Something you would have known if you had made any effort in having breakfast during our previous arrangement." He chugged the rest of his coffee, getting up from the table and going back to the coffee maker for a second cup. "Still have not answered my question. To what do I owe the glorious pleasure of waking up and seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning?" He leaned back against counter, putting himself on display and Sam was going to enjoy taking him down this early in the morning.

"Sam, don't do it." Steve warned from behind his newspaper.

She smiled sweetly at Brock, who instantly knew she was going to fuck him up.

"To my house burning down."

"Oh my God." Bucky said under his breath.

He spat out his coffee.

"Fucking hell Brock that's disgusting!" Steve yelled. 

"Spitting out your coffee so early in the morning Brock." Jack walked into the kitchen, equally shirtless and just as ripped and hot as Brock and Sam had to do a double take.

He followed up with "what is Sam here or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

He spun around, his green eyes landing on her.

"Hey Sam." He greeted and Sam nodded. "What brings you to our neck of the woods."

"Her house was burnt down." Brock said from behind gritted teeth.

"What?! Are you alright? How did it happen?"

"Well to answer your questions: my house was burnt down. Yes, physically I am alright. The jury is still out on mentally and someone burnt it down."

"Wait, what? Someone burnt it down? Is it the same person who shot you?"

It was Sam's turn to shrug as she got up from the table and went to the kitchen sink, Jack and Brock's eyes following her, both of them looking her up and down, taking in her smooth dark legs that were on full display thanks to her pair of short sleep shorts and the skin that was shown on her upper body due to the camisole she had on. Brock saw how Jack was looking at her and elbowed him savagely in his side, his eyes saying all that his lips could not say in that moment.

Jack smiled at him and averted his eyes from his friend's soul mate tight, hot and beautiful body.

"It could be, could be someone else. Just know that you two are off the hook, since you both have solid alibis."

Just then, Sam does not know if Bucky had meant to start something or if he just innocently asked it but it was as if hell itself had opened beneath her feet.

"What about Owen? He was nowhere to be seen when we got there. Was it a 'wham bam thank you ma'am' situation or did something happen between you two?"

Sam never got a chance to respond before Brock was pushing into her space and had her backed up against the counter.

"What the fuck is he talking about?" He growled in her face.

"Brock!" Steve was up and out of his seat, both him and Jack pulling him away from Sam.

"Dude, she had already been through enough." Jack said. “Get out of her face." 

Brock did not resist their pull on him but he did shrug them off once they got him a respectable distance away from her.

"What is he talking about Sam? Did you sleep with Owen?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You do realise that my personal life is none of your business. Hell, anything concerning me is any of your business."

"Still have not answered the question Sam." Bucky unhelpfully pointed out.

"Fucking hell! No! I did not fuck him! We had a huge ass argument and then I told him to leave. The next thing I knew, I woke up to my house on fire around me." She started pacing back and forth, her irritation rising to dangerous levels and she needed to go and work it out of her system.

"The argument may have agitated him." Jack said. "He might have the mentality that 'if he can't have you, no one can' and knowing that you have found your fate assigned soul-mate may have triggered him."

"And the Psychology Ph.D. is talking." Brock commented offhandedly. 

" _You_  have a  _Ph.D._ in  _Psychology?"_ Bucky questioned, pointing his spoon at Jack.

"You learn something new every day." Sam said. 

"What we need to  _learn_  is who the fuck is after Sam." Brock said, clearly agitated that they were getting off topic and that Sam had spent the evening with Owen.

 _"Pardon me," Jarvis_  spoke up, " _Sergeant Wilson, your father is here."_

"Well that was quick.  _Jarvis_ , please give him the directions to my apartment."

_"Will do Sergeant."_

"Thank you. Gentlemen, I am out." Sam threw up the peace sign as the left the kitchen.

When the elevator doors opened to her apartment, her father was already there, standing by one of the huge floor to ceiling windows.

"Daddy."

"Sam."

They met in the middle of the living room, to engulf each other in a tight hug.

"My darling girl." Harry buried his face in Sam's hair. "How are you doing? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Sam pulled back to look at him. He looked as tired as she felt. 

"No, I am fine. I got out with time to spare before the house imploded."

Harry pulled her to him again and Sam held on for dear life, the previous hours still fresh in her mind.

"We need to catch this little bastard."

"I know." Sam broke the embrace and went to sit on the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest. Harry followed her and sat beside her. "Everyone is looking into Owen's, Brock's, Jack's and your background."

Harry stiffened at that, something Sam took instant notice of.

"I can understand the other three, but  _me_. I have nothing to hide. No sordid background."

He was lying. Sam knew it. She knew not what about, but he was lying straight to her face and she called him on it.

"You are lying."

"Sam-"

"No, someone is trying to hurt me or kill me and I want to know who and why." She looked at her father, her eyes pleading for him to tell the truth.

"Sam, I know all that, and I want answers too, but I honestly have nothing to tell, I was an army doctor, then I met you mother in America, fell in love with her, married her, stayed there until she died, then moved back here with you to continue working as a doctor. Nothing more, nothing less."

"What other duties did you carry out in the army apart from those as medical personnel?" Sam was  _not_  letting this go.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back in the couch, "you are just being ridiculous now Sam."

"Paranoid, ridiculous, jumpy call it what you want, but my house was burnt to the ground!" Sam yelled, getting up from the crouch aggressively where she began pacing. "My most prized possessions are lost, my pictures, mommy's wedding dress, her wedding band, Riley's dog tags, my favourite mug that one of my vets got me!  _Everything!_ I had to resign from my job over the phone! Because some asshole has me running for my life!" Her voice was getting louder and louder with every word.

"Sam, breathe." Harry tried to calm her down.

"I am a fucking Avenger and I cannot even do that job, because, unless we look under every fucking rock, I might have to live here for the rest of my life when I should be out protecting people and not having to be protected myself! Tell me what you are hiding!" She screamed at her father.

Her father remained quiet, as she breathed hard.

"You know what have  _Jarvis_  contact me when you're ready to talk."

Harry said nothing as Sam angrily left the apartment.

* * *

Sam was in the gym, running on the treadmill as if the hounds of hell were biting savagely at her heels, when Jack came in and started up the machine beside her. She kept her head straight, rock music blaring in her ears from the earphones she had jammed in them to block out the world and its wife.

Jack started with a jog.

They kept running beside each other for the next thirty minutes until Sam could no longer feel her lungs or legs for that matter and brought down the speed to a walk to cool down.

They both continued to exercise in silence for a few more minutes until Sam broke it.

"Have you met your soulmate yet."

"Yeah, I met her when I was sixteen years old." Jack answered easily and elaborated. "A new family had moved into the house beside us and they had a little ten year old girl."

"Damn." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

Jack laughed, "yeah, it was a bit traumatizing to find out my soulmate was a kid. But she was a spitfire. She actually reminds me of you." He looked at Sam and smiled. Sam kept her eyes forward, not sparing him a glance.

"She had a mean right hook and clocked me square in my nose. The bleeding would not stop and I had to be taken to the hospital."

Sam's lips twitched, "I am sure that you deserved it. What happened to her?"

"She got cancer when she was twelve years old. Died when she was fifteen."

"Well that's a fucking tragedy if I have ever heard one."

"You don't sugar coat your words do you."

"No, I don't." Sam stopped her treadmill and stepped off it. "Especially not for people I do not like." She walked over to the bench where she had left her towel and water bottle and dropped herself on it.

Jack stopped his machine as well and took a seat beside her.

"What was her name?" Sam asked, her voice soft.

"Anna-Nastasia Lopez."

Sam looked at him, "you mean ' _Anastasia?'_ "

Jack laughed, "that is exactly why she broke my nose. I said the very same thing when we met, but her name was 'Anna-Nastasia'. A double barrel first name."

"Talking about names, I am surprised that no one has asked why my name is Wilson, while my dad's Hart."

Jack looked around the room that was devoid of any life except for them and beckoned her closer. Sam against her better judgement leaned in and he whispered conspiratorially to her.

"Between you and me, Brock wanted to know but was too afraid to ask. He did not want to cross any boundaries."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Any more than he already has?"

"So, seriously, how are you doing?" Jack not so subtly changed the subject and Sam decided to roll with it.

"Mentally and physically tired, frustrated, angry, sad." She shrugged, "I guess I feel the same as any other person whose house was just burnt down."

"But your house was not just 'burnt down'." Jack spoke lowly, "it was done by someone trying to hurt you."

"Yeah, that too. Add a healthy dose of paranoia to the cocktail." Sam joked dryly. "I keep forgetting that my house, my  _home_  no longer exists and that I can  _never_ go back home again." 

"You  _can_ rebuild."

"It won't be the same.  _Everything_ was destroyed. All my photos, mementos, souvenirs I had collected or gotten from friends and family. Poof! " Sam made an exploding simulation with her hands, her eyes widening when she did it.

“Sure, they might be gone, but those were just the material possessions that held your memories. What really matters is that you have everything up here," he pointed at him head, "and here," and then at his chest where his heart is. "I am sure you remember all the laughter, tears,  _fights,_ " he emphasised, bumping his shoulder into Sam's "and God knows what else that took place there. So yes, it is horrible that your home is gone but remember, that you can rebuild or start over somewhere new," Jack spread his arms and looked around the gym, "and you will always have those memories with you as long as you are alive."

Sam sat there, quietly contemplating what Jack had said before turning to look at him.

"It is a sad thing when a HYDRA agent makes sense -"

 _"Former._ "

"How the hell are you and Brock friends? He seems so wild and impulsive, while you take the time to think things through."

Jack scratched his neck back, "this might not be the best example, but he's the one who planned your kidnapping."

"You're right, not the best example." Sam deadpanned.

"No, I mean, he thought to walk with that sedative the day  _Project Insight_  fell, just in case he happened to get you alone, which he did and he staked out your house every day until you came back. He had everything in place, so that the moment you set foot back in there, he could grab you and run."

"Well thank God, something or someone intervened both times."

"And it was his idea to kidnap Ms. Potts."

"Ok, where are you going with this? Because it sounds as if you are making a case against Brock instead of for him."

Jack smiled and Sam had the passing thought that he looked good.

"My point is, Brock may act irrational and impulsive at times, but he is rather cunning underneath it all. He watches his surroundings, process what is happening and then he acts. He may go ballistic, but it is always with precision. He was the Commander of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s counter-terrorism S.T.R.I.K.E. team."

Sam levelled him with a look. "You mean H.Y.D.R.A.'s soldier, right?"

Jack rolled his eyes, and Sam had the passing thought that was not very psychologist of him.

"What I am saying is that if you want to catch whoever wants you dead, Brock is the best guy for the job."

"You mean he is better than all the technology Tony has at his disposal and his ability to hack anything anywhere?"

"Let's just say Brock can see things that other people can't see."

"Are you trying to tell me he can see dead people?" Sam joked.

"He may not look it or act like it, but Brock's a certified genius."

Sam burst out laughing at that. She laughed until her stomach hurt and tears were streaming down her face. Once she had control of herself she sat up and looked at Jack, wiping her face while little bouts of giggles left her mouth.

"You are shitting me. Brock? A genius?"

Jack looked at her and without so much as blinking said, "Brock has an I.Q. of 187, he has an eidetic memory and is a member of the American Mensa."

Sam was rendered silent.

 _"Jarvis."_  Her voice was strained and high.

_"Yes, Sergeant Wilson."_

"Is it possible for you to confirm everything Jack just said?"

_"Right away Sergeant Wilson."_

In a few seconds,  _Jarvis_  had projected on the wall opposite them  _everything_  regarding Brock's academic accomplishments. Sam stood and approached the wall in awe, her eyes flickering over each bit of information. 

She turned back to face a smug looking Jack.

"His I.Q. is higher than Tony Stark's. There will be no living with the fucker after this."

The grin on Jack's face was that of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

* * *

Sam slammed open the door to the briefing room where J _arvis_ had told her Brock currently was. The man in question spun around from whatever it was he looking at on the large screen at the loud bang which sounded behind him.

"Sam, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

The look and pleased tone of his voice made Sam stop, turn and walk back out the door, only for her to turn back around and enter the room once again, pride be damned.

"I need your help."

Brock's eyebrows hit his hairline.

"Oh?" 

"Cut the shit Brock. I need your help in finding out who is after me and I  _know_ that you can help."

"I can help.  _But_..."

"But?" Sam prompted, giving a 'continue' gesture with her hand.

"But my help comes with a price."

Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I figured."

Brock grinned and sat down in one of the chairs around the table, leaning back in it and kicking up his feet on the table, folding his hands behind his head. His entire posture screamed 'cocky motherfucker' and Sam was not here for this.

"You knew it came with a price and yet you still came to me."

"Yeah," Sam walked further into the room, "I thought, 'hmm, maybe since I am this asshole's soul-mate, he would be willing to help me out, considering someone out there wants me dead'."

"You acknowledge that we are soul-mates."

It was a statement, not a question.

"I acknowledge that we are soul-mates, but that does not mean that I have to accept it or you."

"Not helping your case Sam. How about you try asking nicely."

Sam had the urge to slap that cocksure smile off Brock's face and she gave into the urge. She moved so fast that Brock had no time to defend himself against the stinging slap she delivered against his cheek, the force causing it to redden immediately.

"You fucking bitch!" Brock shot out of his seat, enraged and towered over Sam's small frame. She looked up at him, defiance in her eyes and fierceness in her stance, ready to fight.

"What Brock? You want to hit me" she glanced down at his tightly clenched fist and looked back up at him. "Go right ahead."

They stood like that, staring down each other.

"I came to you for help since Jack all but sang your praises. Maybe for once in your life you could use your big brain for some good instead of just doing H.Y.D.R.A.'s evil bidding and destroying peoples' lives, but I can see that it was a waste of time. You are only here for yourself alone." She turned to walk out.

"Sam." Brock called her, his voice tight with anger. "Sam!"

She wheeled around, "you know, for all our problems, if I went to Owen he would have jumped to help me without a second thought."

"He's your husband, he should do so."

"And you are my soul-mate! That should mean something even more!" Sam walked back towards him, closing the distance between them rapidly. "You are a selfish arrogant Nazi! I do not need or want you. I have the Avengers, my father, Owen and Jack."

Brock stiffened at hearing her say his best friend's name.

"I have more than enough help. I just thought that with your genius and your calculating ways, we could weed out this mysterious person quicker." With that said, Sam turned and began walking out of the room again when Brock spoke up.

"I will help you."

"Don't do me any favours." She did not even spare him a glance.

"For fuck's- Sam!" Brock jogged to catch up to her and grasped her elbow to halt her steps. "Will you just fucking listen?"

"What?" She refused to look at him.

"I will help you, with anything that you need."

"And what's the steep price that I will have to pay?"

"Consider it on the house."

Sam turned to look at him, his eyes shining with something she could not put a finger on.

"How generous of you."

"Do not make me change my mind." He joked but it fell flat. Clearing his throat, Brock asked, "what will you have me do?"

"I need you to interrogate Owen."

"You do know that is not going to end well."

Sam nodded, "I know. I do not intend for it to."


	14. Three Things That Cannot Long Be Hidden...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun, the moon and the truth. - Buddha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii!!! Look a new chapter!!!! 
> 
> I hope that you all love it and thank you for sticking around!!! 
> 
> I got the title and summary from Teen Wolf and what Owen and Sam says to each other is something I saw on a Teen Wolf tumblr once and thought that it fit this chapter.
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Owen sat on the cold steel chair, he stared straight ahead at the steel wall opposite him on the other side of the room. He went out of his mind with worry when he got news of the tragedy which had befallen on Sam's house. He went to the scene of the crime but there was no sign of her and he had no way of contacting her, seeing that both her cell phone and house phone had net the same fate as her home. When he tried calling Harry, all the got was the man's answering machine and voice mail. That was his first clue that Harry had been notified of his daughter's predicament and was flying out to her aid.

Upon arriving back at his hotel room, it was to find a message with instructions to fly immediately to New York and go to the Avengers Tower. When Owen had arrived at his destination, he was greeted by Natasha who simply told him to follow her and would not answer any of his questions regarding Sam. That had been thirty minutes ago and someone had yet to join him in this steel holding cell.

As it neared the one-hour mark, the steel door that blended into the wall when closed open and in walked the last person Owen ever wanted to see.

"Rumlow."

"Shaw." Brock greeted, eyes glued to the open dossier folder in his hands.

"I must have stepped into the  _Twilight Zone_  if the Avengers are going to have  _you_  speak to me."

Brock said nothing as he pulled out the chair on the other side of the table, he closed and dropped the folder on the table before taking a seat, all professional; there was no hint of cockiness in his voice or posture. He levelled Owen with a blank look.

"The Avengers did not ask me to speak to you.  _Sam_  asked me to  _interrogate_ you."

The look of confusion on Owen's face would have made Brock smile smugly, if he did not know that Sam was currently on the other side of the one-way mirror and if she had not asked him herself to do something so important for her.

"Why the fuck would she ask something like that of you?"

Brock shrugged, "hell if I know. Now quit stalling, I have a few questions to ask you."

"Where were you the night of June 23rd, 2017?"

Owen remained silent, his eyes saying everything his mouth did not as he stared with utter contempt at Brock.

"Answer the question Shaw."

"I want a lawyer."

The smile that crossed Brock's face sent a shiver down Sam's spine as she watched the two men through the one-way mirror, Jack standing beside her and Natasha on her other side.

"Well you are shit outta luck." His voice was clear over the speakers. "In this room, your rights to a lawyer do not exists."

"I can see this ending with Owen launching himself over the table and attacking Brock." Natasha commented in a bored tone, although Sam could see in her eyes, the excitement of seeing the two men go at it.

Jack looked at Sam as Owen and Brock stared down each other.

"The face that launched a thousand ships; Helen of Troy." The smile on his face was teasing.

"Oh fuck off." Sam, elbowed him in his side and her eyes barely caught the reflection of Natasha looking at her in the one-way mirror.

She turned her head to face Natasha, who had an eyebrow raised at her. Sam subtly raised her shoulders in show that she had no idea what Natasha was trying to hint at, before the red-head spy quickly flicked her eyes to Jack and then back to her. Sam got what she was not saying, rolled her eyes and shook her head in response. Natasha gave her a look that she ignored, not wanting to examine what it meant too closely.

Back in the room, the two men would not give an inch.

"I figured," Owen's Welsh accent was pronounced "wouldn't expect a bunch of backwoods inbred hillbillies to know and understand the law."

Sam could not help the snicker that escaped her and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Brock, however, did not rise to the bait, his eye did not even twitch.

"I will have you know, that I was born to two of the wealthiest people in New York, so not a hillbilly." Brock's stare was steady as he spoke. "And my parents hail from opposite sides of the planet with my father being Scottish and my mother American. So, no inbreeding there."

"I must say, Brock is being rather calm." Natasha pointed out.

"That's his genius at work for you."

Brock laced his fingers together and leaned forward to brace them against the table.

"Listen Shaw, we can keep firing insults back and forth at each, considering that as soon as one of us throw the first punch, we will be pulled a part before the other can land the second punch. So, just answer my questions and then you are free to leave."

"I am not leaving without seeing Sam."

"Who says that she wants to see you?"

"The fact that we had dinner last night says a lot."

"And I heard it went down in flames." Brock looked mockingly thoughtful. "Speaking of flames, where were you last night, after you left Sam's house?"

Owen remained silent like before.

"I will accept your silence as admission that you burnt down Sam's house."

Owen slammed his hands down on the table, the sound echoing throughout the room. "I would never do such a thing!" He roared. “She is my wife! I would never do anything to harm her!”

"Then answer the question."

Owen deflated and fell back in his chair. His head lolled back and his eyes met the harsh fluorescent lights "I walked out of Sam's house at 10:30 P.M. and stayed outside her door until she went upstairs about 11:15 P.M."

"Why?"

Owen released a defeated sigh, "we had a huge fight and after she kicked me out I could hear her crying. I did not want to leave her like that, so I waited until I heard her make her way upstairs a little after 11:00 P.M."

Sam nodded a lump in her throat, "he's telling the truth." 

"I then went back to my hotel, where I sat and drank everything at the bar. The bartender was so concerned for me that he gave me a full pot of coffee sometime around 5:00 A.M. and told me to go to my room and rest. That is when I found out about Sam’s house. I went to the scene of the crime but found nothing and upon returning to my hotel I received a message instructing me to report here immediately. And considering I was flown in by a  _Stark Jet_  I am sure that you know exactly where I was for the last hour."

"Fortunately, we do and we will be verifying your alibi with the hotel and the bartender." Brock started rising from his seat when Owen spoke again.

"You must be enjoying this immensely."

Brock settled back in his seat, "actually, I am not. Someone is trying to kill, if not hurt Sam."

"And that's why you agreed with her request of interrogating me?"

"I agreed to her request because she is my soul-mate and I want her to be safe."

Owen raised an eyebrow, "safe?" He scoffed. "You tried to kidnap her twice, kidnapped her friend and used her as a bargaining chip. And you speak of wanting to keep her 'safe,' that's a load of bullshit you fucking wanker."

Brock smiled nastily, "and what about you? From what I have seen, Sam cannot even stand to be in the same room as you and if you both are, she always makes sure to keep someone in between the two of you. Why are you hanging on to a woman who does not love you anymore?"

"Here we go." Jack said as he, Sam and Natasha continued watching the two men.

"And why are you chasing a woman who will  _never_  love you." Owen smirked, "at least she loved me at one point."

"Well, she wants a divorce now, so why not put her out of her misery and give the woman what she wants?"

"They remind me of a bunch of school boys fighting over who will be carrying Helen's books." Natasha joked as the tension built in the interrogation room.

"That nickname is going to stick, isn't it?" Sam asked, her eyes flitting between the two men.

"Like white on rice." Jack said.

Back in the room Owen and Brock were trying to break the other.

"At least she slept with me willing and I did not have to _threaten to rape her_."

"She still came to me for help." Brock spread his arms, a smug smile on his lips.

"She still wears her wedding ring on a chain around her neck." Owen shot back.

Brock rolled his eyes, "what is it with you Brits and having plant your flag everywhere?"

"I'm Welsh." Owen deadpanned.

"You're all the same to me. You think just because she still has your ring that it means anything? Take a good look at Sam, she has  _seven piercings_  in her ears, she  _always_  has on a necklace and she  _never wears less than two rings_ on each hand. You ever thought that maybe, just maybe she likes jewellery a lot and likes the ring you gave her because it is pretty and not because it reminds her of the love she once shared with you?"

"Sounds as if you are trying to comfort yourself Rumlow. No one continues to walk around with their wedding ring unless they still feel something for their significant other."

Both men stared down the other over the table. Brown eyes violently clashing with hazel. The tension was at its breaking point when a smile made its way unto Owen's face and he leaned back, the air of relaxed settling around him.

"Does Sam really not want to meet with me face to face?" He then pointed to the one-way mirror, directly at Sam, "because I know for a fact, that she  _is_  currently standing on the other side of that piece of glass watching our exchange.

Owen turned to look at the one-way mirror and his eyes locked on Sam's.

"We are all a bunch of thieves and liars." He said.

"I'd say we're in pretty good company." She finished.

"That we all are." Owen said and smiled.

"And we are done here." Brock knocked the file on the table as he got up. "Someone will escort you out."

Owen was still staring right at Sam through the one-way mirror. "Are you really not going to speak to me Sam?"

"Give it up man. It's starting to get pathetic." Brock stood in the open door of the interrogation room.

"Come on Sam, don't you want to know all about your dad's little dirty secret?"

That got everyone's attention.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Brock demanded, stepping back into the room and allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

"Yeah, what the fuck is he talking about Sam?" Natasha inquired.

"I have no idea but I am going to find out." Sam declared as she left the room, the elevator at the end of the corridor already open and waiting for her. she did not even have to inform  _Jarvis_  as to where she was going. Her entire body was tense the elevator ascended to her apartment and as soon as the doors opened, she was out, flinging open the door which led to her apartment.

"Dad!" She shouted when she saw no sign of him in the living room or kitchen.

"Sam?" 

She turned to see him exiting one of the spare bed rooms, a look of concern etched on his handsome gentleman face.

"What's the matter?"

She said nothing as she stormed towards him, her hands fisting the collar of his sweater as she shoved him as hard as she could into the wall beside the large floor to ceiling windows.

"I know you are hiding something." She growled, her dark brown eyes alight with a raging fire even though the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. 

"Sam, darling," Harry placed his hand over hers, trying to calm her. "I told you before that I am not hiding anything."

Sam narrowed her eyes at him; she pulled him forward by his collar and slammed him back into the wall.

"Cut the bullshit dad, I want to hear whatever shit you are hiding from you or I will go back to Owen and have a nice long chat with him about your  _'dirty little secret'_  as he so cutely put it.”

It was as if a flip had been flipped when Harry heard those words; his normally warm and welcoming eyes became hard and cold, his entire demeanour screaming  _'threat'_  but Sam stood her ground. He looked  _dangerous_.

Harry sighed, closed his eyes and leaned his head back until it thumped against the wall. "I knew I should have killed that little motherfucker when I had the chance."

"Dad?" Sam's eyes were roving over her father's face.

He opened his eyes at the sound of his daughter’s confused and worried voice. They were back to the warm brown that she knew and loved. Harry smiled down at her, cupping her face in his hands.

"Owen, I knew that I should have killed him back when I had the chance. If I had, we would not be having this conversation right now."

"Dad, why would you kill Owen? You're a doctor, it is against your oath to take a life."

The look Harry bestowed upon Sam, informed her that without a doubt, the next words out of her father’s mouth were going to destroy her view of him and boy, he did not disappoint.

"Doctors make the best assassins." Harry simply said.


	15. BREATHE!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One and then the two  
> Two and then the three  
> Three and then the four  
> Then you gotta BREATHE  
> Then you gotta *gasp*  
> Then you gotta *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and summary - Breathe by Fabolous.
> 
> Hiiiii!!! Look a new chapter!!!!
> 
> I hope that you all love it and thank you for sticking around!!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam felt as if the world had stopped, she could hear the blood rushing in her ears as she tightened her grip on his sweater, Harry's hands still covering hers.

"You took an oath, 'first do not harm.'" What her mouth could not say, her eyes did. They were silently pleading for this to be a sick joke. 

Harry merely shrugged, nothing he said or did right now could extinguish his daughter's current anguish. "I was a military doctor as well as an assassin."

Sam had no idea who the man was standing in front of her. She released her grip on him as if she had been burned and took a few steps away from him.

"Why should you have killed Owen?" Sam had an inkling of the reason, but she needed to hear her father confirm it.

"He knew about my past; what I was and what I did." Harry took a step towards his distressed daughter and was crestfallen when she stepped back, holding up her hand for him not to come any closer. 

Sam grabbed the back of the couch, bending over it as she dragged in deep breaths. She felt as if she was going to be sick; she could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat.

"I knew who he was from the moment you introduced us; I saw how he looked at you and knew that he had fallen hard for you. I saw how happy you both were with each other; you both had that look of love for each other that your mother and I had, so I figured that I would leave him be. That you were good for him." Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily. "However, if I had the foresight that this shit was going to happen, I would have killed him."

"How does-" Sam took a deep breath, her stomach churning and the world around her spinning. "How does Owen know who you are?"

"We did a few missions together when he was a young lad. Just eighteen, barely out of school." Harry sat down on the couch, his back to Sam and placed his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. "I followed his career in the military, but I had no idea that he had turned to criminal activities until you came and told me about that infamous warehouse fiasco."

"Yet, you never once encouraged me to leave him, knowing who he was." Sam accused. 

Harry turned to look at her over his shoulder, "other than wanting to bury my past and all the secrets that come with it, I did not encourage you to leave Owen because you still love him."

Sam opened her mouth to argue but Harry cut her off.

"Tell me that I am lying, that you do not still have him somewhere in that big heart of yours."

she broke eye contact and that was telling enough. "That is beside the point. You were an assassin, is it possible that someone you were assigned to kill is actually not dead or maybe someone is trying to seek revenge for a killing?"

"Excuse you, but all my kills are dead." Harry sounded affronted. 

"Don't sound so insulted by my question. Someone wants me dead. Is it possible that there may be relatives wanting revenge?"

"I already asked my contacts. No one apart from those who needed to know, knew who I killed and all of the files on my missions were destroyed."

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, "you sure about that?"

"I destroyed them myself."

Sam sat down on the back of the couch, allowing gravity to pull her over so that her back rested on the seat, with her legs braced against the back. Harry looked down at her.

"Well, I am fucked, aren't I?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"We have to tell the others." Sam met his gaze. "This is a new development; we need fresh objective eyes looking at your past."

"It's a very ugly past Sam."

"I know, and no one will judge in case you have not seen the crowd I run with."

"You  _are_  judging me."

"Damn right I am." Sam sat up properly, turning to face her father, crossing her legs under her. "I am judging you because you lied to me and more than likely mommy as well."

"Your mother knew about my past." Harry sheepishly interjected.

"Well fuck her, not to mention you were a doctor at the same time."

"Respect the dead Sam." Harry chastised. "And no one will be looking into my background."

 _"Excuse you."_  Sam was slowly losing her patience and for the first time in her life, she contemplated striking her father. "There is a someone hellbent on killing me and you are saying 'no' because you do not want anyone finding out that the good doctor is really nothing but a cold-blooded murderer underneath it all." 

Harry's eyes hardened as he looked at Sam. "Watch your mouth Sam." He warned. "When I say my past is ugly, it is meant to be a warning. I have done things that would make the devil cower. Not to mention you already have someone who wants you dead, no sense in adding another person to that list."

Sam sat up straight, "what do you mean by that?"

"Do not pull on that string Samantha."

"Fuck you." She said venomously. "You dangled it in front of me with that statement. Now tell me; what the fuck do you mean?"

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Sam and she thought for the first time in her life that her father looked his age. 

"I had a hand in the assassination of Tony Stark's parents."

The bomb had been dropped, it detonated, but the explosion was silent.

"You-you, -no-what?" Sam was having difficulty forming her words and thoughts. However, that is not the only difficulty she was having. Her lungs felt as if they were constricting and could not breathe in enough oxygen. 

"His parents died in a car crash." She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, the edge of her vision was dimming and blurring.

Harry saw that his daughter was having a hard time processing what he had just told her and reach out, a hand on her shoulder, "Sam, darling breathe."

"Do not touch me!" Sam shot up from the couch and whirled on him. Her chest heaving with rage and the effort to try and get some oxygen into her lungs. "Tony's parents died in a car crash." 

"A car crash I facilitated." Harry stood up, trying to approach Sam, but she evaded him, walking around the couch to put it between them. "I am the one who made them take detour on that secluded road, I waited in the bushes until they drove by and then they did I blew out one of their tires and we both know what happens when a car tire blows out on black ice.

Sam did in fact know, considering that she was ten years old when the same thing had happened to them when Harry had picked her up from school one snowy day. She still remembers the swerving of the car and how tight Harry had hugged her after he had managed to bring the car to a stop safely.

Harry watch as Sam bent from the waist over to rest against the back of the couch. Her breathing was ragged and he was worried that she was going to collapse from a lack of proper oxygen.

"This is the exact reason why I did not want you to know." He said. "Sam, darling, you need to breathe properly before you pass out."

"And you need to go to hell." Sam snapped.  _"Jarvis?"_

_"Yes, Sergeant Wilson?"_

"Get Steve and the others up here." Sam looked at her father, anger in her eyes, "but get me out of here first. I am not staying here."

 _"Right away Sergeant." Jarvis_  replied and immediately the elevator doors opened.

"Sam." Harry made to move towards her but stopped when she held up her hand.

"No, I cannot stand to be around you right now."

"Samantha!"

She ignored her father as she went to the elevator,  _Jarvis_  closing the doors extra fast as Harry attempted to get to his daughter. Sam pressed her back to the cool steel of the elevator wall, her breathing still ragged as she held a hand to her chest, trying to calm her breathing but to no avail.

"Take me to the garage."

_"Sergeant, I do not think it is wise to drive in your condition."_

" _Jarvis_ , just do it please." The desperation in her voice was raw and  _Jarvis_ heard it as he sent the elevator straight to the garage where Sam stumbled out of the elevator; her eyes glanced over the many cars, bikes and SUV that were housed in the huge underground garage. "Which vehicle is open and has the keys in it?"

_"Sergeant Wilson, I still do not think-"_

"Which vehicle?" Sam said from between her teeth, her patience wearing thin and the need to leave the Tower was growing with every passing second.

If it were possible Sam swore she hear  _Jarvis_ release a resigned sigh before answering her.

_"The black Ranger Rover."_

Sam's eyes landed on it and she froze. "That's Brock's car."

_"It is the only vehicle down here that is currently open and the keys are kept in the sun visor."_

Knowing it was either staying in the Tower to face her father and the evil that had escaped from opening  _Pandora's Box,_ Sam chose the lesser of two evil and made her way over to the SUV. She was about to open the door when she heard a voice behind her.

"Sam?"

She spun and saw Jack standing there, a bewildered look on his face.

"Are you ok?"

Sam didn't know why, but it was probably a mixture of shock, the lack of oxygen she was breathing in, the fact that she just found out that her father was a liar and a killer, that made her close the small distance between them. Her small hands grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face in it. She felt his arms come up to wrap around her shaking shoulders. 

She matched her breathing to his, managing to calm down a little. 

Jack rubbed his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture and Sam felt his warmth seep into her and for some reason she felt safe tucked away from the world by his huge body.

"Get me out of here."

"What was that?"

She pulled away from him, his hands still gripping her shoulder.

"Get me out of  _here_." Her voice cracked and Sam watched as Jack's face morphed from mild concern to outright horror when she felt the hot tears fall down her face.

"Sam?" 

They both turned at the new voice, to see Brock standing there, looking between his best friend and soul-mate. Any other time, Sam would have rubbed their close interaction with each other in his face, but right now, right this moment all she wanted to do was get out.

"I need to leave here." She said stepping back from Jack, his hands falling from her shoulder. "I don't care where, but I need to  _leave_."

Jack and Brock shared a look.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?" Jack tried. “ _Jarvis_ told us that we needed to get down here immediately.”

"Does, this have anything to do with Owen's interrogation and what he said about your father?" Brock asked and knew he hit the nail on the head when Sam violently flinched.

 _"I must inform you that Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are currently looking for you Sergeant Wilson." Jarvis_  informed them and Sam tore open the door of the driver's side.

Jack rushed forward and grabbed her waist as she was climbing into the vehicle.

"Whoa, ok, we don't know what happened and we won't push. But you are not driving anywhere in your condition."

Sam looked at him and then at Brock.

"We will take you wherever you want to escape to." Jack said and Sam nodded. He moved out of the way so that Sam could climb down and she jogged around the front of the car to the passenger side and got in. Brock got in the back and sent a withering glare at Jack in the rear-view mirror, to which he received an eyebrow raise for. 

They drove out of the Tower and onto the bright streets of New York, Sam stared out the window, thoughts in her hear swirling of the huge boulder of a revelation her father dropped on her. She saw men and women in business suits, couples both young and old walking hand in hand, enjoying the nice weather, she saw mothers walking with their babies, teenagers walking with their friends and could not help but feel a little bit envious about how blissfully unaware they were about her meltdown as they went about their business.

 _'Not a fucking care in the world.'_  She thought bitterly. Sam was so consumed by her thoughts that she missed when brick, steel and glass gave way to nothing but greenery. She perked up then, looking around at her surroundings. "Where are we going?" A hint of wariness in her voice.

"My cabin." Brock replied from the backseat and when Sam turned to look at him, she was met with an intense glare. "Only a select few know about it; me, you, Jack and the Avengers. The perimeter is well secure and the road to it is private, you will be safe there."

Sam narrowed her eyes, "' _safe_?'" The disbelief was clear in her voice as her face. "You want to take me back to the place where we got into a physical altercation, not to mention where you threatened to rape me and expect me to feel safe there?"

"1." Brock held up a finger, " _you_  asked  _us_  to get you away from Avengers Tower. You didn't say where and I quote:  _"I don't care where, but I need to leave."_

"I do not sound like that jackass."

Brock ignored the name calling. "2. I said that you  _will_  be safe there from whoever is trying to kill you, not that you would  _feel_  safe just because you had a few bad experiences there."

"You  _threatened_  to  _rape me_." Sam enunciated.

"I was  _drunk_."

"That is no excuse Brock." Jack decided to input his two cents.

Brock raised an eyebrow, levelling his friend with a look. "Really now, and just pray tell what is  _your_ excuse?" 

There was silence for a few minutes in the vehicle, the tension rising.

"Is there something that I am missing?" Sam asked, looking between the two friends.

"Nothing Helen, just Brock being paranoid."

"Paranoid about what?" 

"Who the fuck is 'Helen'?"

Sam and Brock asked in unison.

"I am." Sam pointed to herself. "You know,  _Helen of Troy_."

"The face that launched a thousand ships." Brock finished.

"Yeah, this joker here," she pointed to Jack, "decided to nickname me that in the presence of Natasha, so you now it's going to stick."

Brock was peeved, he crossed his arms over his chest, his teeth grinding. His best friend was getting too close to his soul-mate, to the point where he was giving her nicknames and she was not batting an eyelash. Just then his cell phone started ringing, pulling it out, he saw that the caller I.D. read  _Steve Rogers_. "Jack, press the hands-free, it's Rogers."

Jack did as told and soon the small space was filled with the worried voice of Steve.

_"Brock! Have you seen Sam?!"_

Sam winced, feeling bad that she had left in a hurry and making her friends worry for her; but she was not in a good head space, still was not but she was a lot better than she was half an hour ago.

"Yeah, I have Rogers. She's sitting right in front of me."

"Hey Steve." She answered, a bit sheepishly.

 _"Sam! Thank God!"_  Steve was relieved to hear his friend's voice.  _"Are you ok? Wait, why are you with Brock and Jack?"_

"She's here of her own free will Rogers." Brock said before she could answer. He smiled slyly, "in fact, she  _begged_  us to get her out of the Tower."

Sam spun around to glare at him. "I did not beg."

"She did not beg." Both she and Jack spoke at the same time.

Brock rolled his eyes, "fact is, she asked us to get her out of the Tower."

They heard Steve sigh on the other end of the line.  _"I am assuming you did not take your father's big revelation that well."_

"That Steve," Sam rubbed her temples where she felt a headache beginning to form, "is the understatement of the fucking year. Did he tell you about Tony's parents?"

 _"Yeah, he did."_ Steve chuckled mirthlessly.  _"Natasha and Clint are with him right now, trying to talk him down and Rhodey and Pepper are on their way."_

"Talk him down from what?" Jack asked.

_"He is currently planning all the ways to slowly and painfully kill your father Sam."_

Sam remained quiet at that, she did not feel anything when Steve told her that. Yes, she would feel sad if her father died and she did feel bad for thinking that if Tony did in fact kill him, he would have deserved it. But the truth was, he did deserve it. He had sworn an oath to never do no harm and yet he became a fucking assassin.

"Steve, I will be at Brock's cabin if you need me."

_"Are you sure that's such a good idea with someone out there gunning for you?"_

"Well, according to Brock, I will be perfectly safe there."

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.  _"That coming from the man who tried to kidnap you while fighting in the Triskelion, then from your own home, kidnapped one of your closest friends to use against you, hunted you down in England to try and kidnap you again, oh and let's not forget, **threatened**  to rape you. Did I cover everything?"_ Steve's voice was acidic.

Sam pretended to think and twisted in her seat to look at a fuming Brock in the backseat. "Did he get everything Brock?" She asked, her face a mask of mock innocence.

"Yeah, everything but your mother." Brock sneered.

"Real mature Brock." Sam taunted.

"Go fuck yourself bitch."

"Brock!" Jack called out to his best friend. "Stop it.  _Both_  of you."

"Ohh," Sam smiled wickedly, "I have already fucked myself; it is you who wants to fuck me."

Brock's fists were clenched so hard, he could feel his knuckles cracking under the pressure. "Now that I think about it, I do not want Owen Shaw's sloppy seconds." 

"At least someone wanted me and still do, you blood sucking Nazi." Sam taunted.

"Hey!"

_"Hey!"_

Jack and Steve called out, knowing that the two were a few words away from starting an all-out brawl in the small enclosed space.

 _"Both of you cut it out."_  Steve said in what Tony likes to call his 'Captain America voice.' " _Sam, you are with Brock and Jack because you needed to be somewhere else apart from the Tower and if I know Brock, his place is plenty secure."_

"It sure fucking is." Brock mumbled under his breath.

_"Brock, you are to take care of Sam. No harm from is to come to her. If she comes back with so much as a split end, I will beat you to death."_

The car was silent under Steve's very real threat.

_"Now, we can't hold your father Sam, but he does want to speak to you again, preferably in person after you have had some time to process everything. he will be staying for a few more days before flying back to England.'_

That made Sam sit up straight. "Wait, you are not holding him? Even after he confessed to  _killing_  Tony's parents?"

_"Unfortunately, we can't. And there's something else."_

This day could not get any worse for Sam.

"What?"

_"Owen wants to see you before he leaves as well."_

"He sure is relentless." Sam scraped her fingers through her hair. "I will speak to them both two days from now. I just," she pulled on her hair, "I just need some time to myself. Some peace and quiet, just to sort everything out."

 _"Ok, I will inform them. Stay safe, all of you."_ Steve ended the call and the vehicle was plunged into silence again.

Sam stared out the window at the passing scenery, her arm bracing against the door and holding up her head as she contemplated how her life, was once again, turned upside down in a matter of a few minutes. She suddenly felt bone weary tired at all that had happened until Brock opened his mouth.

"You know Sam, seeing your life come crashing down around you is rather reminiscent of the building that came falling down on us during our fight."

Jack sent Brock a warning look, that he ignored.

"Too bad it was interrupted."

"Yeah," Sam said dryly, "I was looking forward to stabbing you with your own needle."

Brock leaned forward and Sam glanced at in the side-view mirror, their eyes meeting as Brock smiled maliciously. "You do know if that had not happened, you would have been bested right."

"Fuck this." Sam removed her seat belt. "Pull the fucking car over Jack. I am going to beat his ass."

Brock sat back, his smile turning cocky, "please do Jack. I wouldn't mind the exercise."

"No, I am not pulling over for you two to have an all-out road-side brawl. Steve said we are to keep you safe and that is what are going to do Brock."

"Well you are no fun."

"And you are working towards an early grave. Put your seat-belt back on Sam."

Sam did as told, glaring at Brock in the side-view mirror. "You have been blessed by an angel. Count your fucking lucky stars."

"You know, for someone who was just crying her eyes out a moment ago, you sure do have a temper."

"Really?  _Really?_  You are going to throw the fact that I was upset back in my face."

"That's not the only thing I want to throw in your face and I do not mean that sexually just for the record."

"Thanks for public service announcement asshole. And being around you brings out my homicidal tendencies."

Jack looked heaven ward as the two soul-mates bickered, throwing insults back and forth, that just got nastier and nastier each time. Without warning he slammed down on the breaks, causing Sam and Brock to be thrown forward, their seat-belts stopping the sudden movement. He put car in park and turned to face them, annoyance on his face.

 _"Quit it! Both of you!"_  He looked from Sam to Brock. "You two have been at each other's throats since we got in the car. Enough is enough. We have a job to do." He looked at Sam, "and that job is keeping your ass safe. Brock is a part of that job; so, if you have a problem with him, feel free to get out right here." He leaned across her, flicking open the door latch and throwing the door open, gesturing for her to leave."

Sam looked at the green grass and the trees lining the side of the road and pulled the door closing, locking it again. "I am not leaving." She grumbled, sliding down in her seat and folding her arms over her chest.

"I thought so." Jack said and glared at Brock when he snickered. "Something funny back there Brock?" His friend sobered up quick, shaking his head. Satisfied that no more fights were about to break out, Jack put the car back in 'drive' and continued their journey. "You two get your shit together, because I sure as hell  _will not_  be playing referee."

Brock subtly flipped off Sam, who retaliated by 'accidentally' pushing her seat too far back, crushing his legs while 'adjusting' it.

 


	16. Let The Sky Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...This is the end..."  
> "...hold your breath and count to ten..."
> 
> Sam's day is not getting any when another bombshell is dropped in her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! :D I hope you all had a great Christmas!!! :) 
> 
> Look a new chapter!!!!
> 
> I hope that you all love it and thank you for sticking around!!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.
> 
> Title & Summary: 'Skyfall' by Adele

“All this time I thought it was my father's drinking and driving that had killed him and my mother." Tony was sitting in his workshop, on the couch Natasha had moved in there while they were still friends. He was hunched over on himself, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands clasped as in prayer with his forehead resting on them.

Natasha was crouching in front of him, rubbing his back, trying to offer any and all the comfort she could. Clint sitting beside them, a quiet but solid pillar of moral support. They all turned to the glass doors of the lab when they heard the elevator and saw Steve step out of it.

"So," he began as he entered the lab, "Sam took off with Brock and Jack, they are taking her to Brock's cabin where she can process everything that has happened and where she will be kept safe.

"Hold up," Tony sat up, "Sam is currently with  _both_ Brock and  _Jack_?"

"Yes?" Steve asked more than said. "Is that a problem?"

Tony and Natasha exchanged a knowing look.

"What is it?" Clint asked.

Tony sighed, "I think her being with the two of them, without one of us there is a bad idea."

Steve looked alarmed. "Why?"

"Are  _we_ the only ones who see it?" Tony asked looking at his wife. "Has no one else noticed it?"

"Noticed  _what?_ " Steve was growing tired of the code speaking.

Thank God for Natasha who was quite blunt when needed. "Jack likes Sam."

"Ok?" Clint dragged out the word, sharing a look of confusion with Steve who shrugged, not knowing the deeper meaning behind his friend's words.

"No," Natasha stood up, "Jack  _likes_  Sam."

"Oh shit." Steve said, finally understanding. "And I am assuming Brock has noticed this."

"Boy you sure are dim." Bucky said as he walked in, making the other three men in the room jump from his sudden appearance. "I saw how he looked at her the morning after her house was burnt down and when Brock noticed he did not look too happy."

"Well shit." Clint drawled, "shit just keeps getting worse."

The unison nods he received did nothing to help the situation.

* * *

There was a light drizzle by the time they arrived at the cabin. Sam looked at it and saw that there were a few changes made since the last time she was there; her eyes landing on the burst of colour on either side of the little steps leading up to the front porch and found that she had missed the story book beauty of the place and not the company.

"Welcome back." Sarcasm dripped from Brock’s voice as he brushed pass her, knocking her shoulder on purpose as he rounded the car to walk up the front steps.

Sam smiled nastily before replying, "hide the alcohol Jack, he might get drunk and threaten to rape you next."

"Keep me out of your argument." Jack exasperation clear in his voice.

"You already got yourself into it." Brock responded as he swung the front door open with more force than necessary. "Get your asses inside." He waited until Jack and Sam entered the cabin before entering himself, locking the door and activating the security system.

The inside of the cabin still looked pretty much the same since Sam had left and with that in mind she walked to the kitchen, making a beeline to where she knew Brock kept his alcohol. She found a bottle of whiskey and tipped it straight down her throat, relishing in the burn as it went down.

"You were talking about _who_ getting drunk now?" Brock asked from where he stood by the kitchen archway, arms folded across his chest, hazel eyes watching her throat as it swallowed. 

Sam removed the bottle from her mouth, using the back of her hand to wipe it. "Can't get drunk."

"Well that's a handy skill to have."

"It is both a curse and a gift." She lifted the bottle back to her lips only to have it snatched from her by Jack. "Oi, motherfu-"

"This," he slammed the bottle down on the counter cutting her off, "is the last time I am speaking to the both of you." Sam and Brock stood stock still at his tone. "Quit this shit. We all need clear heads right now." He spoke, his face and tone serious. "And when I say a clear head, I mean a  _clear_  head. So, no alcohol even if you are unable to get drunk, no petty quarrels, snide remarks, crass words or physical fighting."

Brock and Sam stared at Jack.

"The fuck does 'snide remarks' have to do with having a clear head?" Sam asked.

Jack sighed exasperatedly and Sam was mildly offended that someone was  _annoyed_  with  _her_.

"Both you and Brock spend a majority of your time while in each other's company throwing insults ranging from petty to downright cruel at each other. And when that does not work, you move on to physical violence; all that takes up precious time that could be used to investigate who is after you and why." Jack explained to her as if he were a teacher and they, his intelligent but too smart for their own good pupils. "Not to mention, that when you are both arguing, there is nothing else taking up your brain space, but how best to one-up the other person; hence, no space left to focus on the task at hand, which is weeding out our mystery person."

"Ok," Sam held up her hands in surrender, "ok, I understand. I know that Brock only argues with me because he wants my undivided attention, but I will do my best from now until we catch this son of a bitch to refrain from murdering him just for breathing."

"That." Jack pointed a finger at her. " _That_ right there is what I am talking about Sam."

"Fine, fine, sorry. I will behave."

Brock snorted, "what about you Jack?"

"What about me?"

"Can you keep your head clear?"

The two men stared each other down.

"Guys?" Sam stepped forward between the two men when the tension in the room started going up. 

Jack stared hard at his friend, "yes Brock, I can keep a clear head."

"Good."

"Great."

"Awesome." Sam threw in as both men continued to stare each other down. "Now that is out of the way. I need to borrow some clothes." Two sets of eyes snapped to her. 

"Why?" Brock asked.

"Because I left the tower with nothing but the clothes on my back and I would like to take a shower and not have to put on back these dirty clothes."

"You remember where my room is?"

"Yes?"

"Good, go take whatever clothes you want. I want to have a talk with Jack here."

Sam looked between the two men again. "Ok, will do." She walked off muttering under her breath, "fucking alpha males and their fucking fragile egos."

Once Sam was out of ear shot Brock spoke, his voice pure steel. "What the fuck is your deal with Sam? And do not bullshit me. A blind man can see that you like her."

Jack stared hard at his friend for a few seconds before noticeably deflating. "I do like her. I tried really hard not to. Trust me on that Brock; with knowing how you are, I tried my best not to like her; but have you met your soul-mate?"

"I have." He said dryly. 

"Then you know that it is very difficult to meet Sam Wilson and not fall in love with her."

Brock's eyes widened at that. "Please tell me that was a slip of the tongue."

Jack rolled his eyes, "I am not in love with her, at least not yet." Brock looked ready to murder his friend. "But I do like her and face it Brock, she likes  _me_  a hell of a lot more than she does  _you_."

"I know." He said bitterly, looking off to the side where the large picture was, seeing that the rain was pouring down now. "Finding my soul-mate was earth shattering for more than one reason."

"You mean other than the fact that your soul-mate is an Avenger?"

Brock smiled bitterly, still staring out the window. "I never thought that I would meet my other half. Being an agent of HYDRA, that was never in my thought process and then this person literally drops right in front of me in the middle of a war-zone and she fucking hated my guts before she even knew my name. She saw my face on the other side of enemy lines and hated me right then and there."

"And you have done nothing so far to make her let go of some of that hate." Jack pointed out. "If anything, all you have done is made her hate you even more. And no, that one interrogation with Owen does not make up for all the shit you have done and said to her." He continued when Brock had opened his mouth to argue.

"So," Brock spread his arms out to the side and dropped them in defeat, "what? Do I make some grand gesture to win her over? Do I burn down all existing HYDRA bases around the world? Do I give up all the powerful people behind the curtains of HYDRA? What do I do?"

Jack regarded his friend for a minute; sizing him up and when he was satisfied he spoke. "Those are good ideas, but how about you start with something small and meaningful?"

" _'Small and meaningful'_?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, and what the hell would be _considered_ small and meaningful?"

"Apologising to her for trying to kidnap her multiple times, threatening to rape her, hitting her, making that crass comment about Riley-"

"I already apologised for Riley." He interjected.

"-and all that shit up until a few minutes ago." Jack continued as if Brock had not spoken. "Trust me, it may not seem like much, but to her it will be something. Just remember to be as sincere as you can. Do not do it because it is the right thing to do and you want her to like you. Do it because you want to do it, because you wish to make amends with her."

Brock stood there, processing what his friend had said. "Ok, I can do that. I can be sincere right?" He looked at Jack who raised an eyebrow.

"Sure?"

"Oh fuck you asshole."

* * *

Sam fresh out of the shower, smelling like lavender, her hair towel dried and hanging down her back, clad in an old, soft  _Oxford University_  t-shirt that stopped at her knees, made her way downstairs back to the kitchen where she smelled something delicious being cooked. Jack sat at the kitchen island, while Brock stood at the stove. They both turned to look at her when she entered, only for Brock to do a double take.

"That's not mine."

Sam looked down at what she had on and back up at him. "Then whose is it?"

Jack raised his hand in acknowledgement. 

"Oh, well I found it in Brock's closet and just grabbed it. Figured it would preserve my decency since, all my clothes are in the wash."

Two pair of eyes looked at her again and she resisted the urge to fidget under their stares. 

"You mean that you are completely naked under that shirt then?" Brock's eyes slowly looked her up and down.

Sam gave him her best 'bitch face.' "No, you fucking school boy. I found a pair of unopened boxer-briefs and took one." She rolled her eyes and took a seat at the kitchen island beside Jack.

Jack couldn't help but glance at her from the corner of his eye. Beside him, she looked so  _tiny_ , and her being in his old university t-shirt did not help the situation. But, however, tiny she may look, he knew the power she packed in her punches and kicks and the venom laced tongue she hid behind a smile that could go from sweet to nasty in .3 seconds. His eyes travelled down the length of her body to her smooth legs that were on display thanks to the shirt riding up

"How are you feeling now?" 

Sam looked at him and shrugged, turning her eyes back to Brock's back. "I feel as if more weight has been added to my shoulders with this new revelation courtesy of my father." Using both fists, she rubbed her eyes, and groaned. "I thought whatever secret he was hiding would bring an end to all this, but only more questions have risen."

Brock, having dished food onto three plates, turned around and placed one each in front of Sam and Jack. 

"Thank you." They said unison.

He opened the fridge, grabbed three beers, opened them and placed them all in the middle of the kitchen island, before taking a seat, a contemplative look on his face.

"His revelation may have drummed up new questions, but,  _but,_ " he emphasised, “by process of elimination, this might be where we should look." He looked up from his plate to meet Sam's eyes then Jack's. "We all know that it is not someone from our side, because no one aside from you," he pointed his fork at Jack, "knows who Sam is to me." He turned his gaze on Sam, “with how desperately Owen wants you back he would have given up whatever information he had just to keep you safe. So, the only other person left is your father."

"And how are you so sure that it is not any of the enemies I have made since joining the fight against HYDRA and becoming an Avenger?"

Jack answered her question. "The attacks on you so far have been personal. First, the shot that was taken at you; if it was someone else, they would have just taken out everyone to get to you. Second, blowing up your house, whoever it is, literally brought the fight to your front door. This is just my professional opinion as both a psychologist and some who has done it before." 

Sam levelled him with a sharp look that he ignored.

"That type of behaviour and targeting means that it is personal."

"More than likely, it is someone from your father's past." Brock interjected. "Remember what happened to Marty?"

Jack nodded, "poor bastard, never knew what hit him."

Sam looked between the two, "who is Marty?"

"Martinez ‘Marty’ Henderson, a former assassin of HYDRA." Brock explained, "he was one of the best and a cocky asshole to boot."

"And that cockiness cost him."

"What happened to him?"

Jack and Brock shared a look, then turned their eyes back to Sam. Brock leaned forward over the kitchen island maintaining eye contact with her. "What I am about to share with you, never leaves this room. You hear me, we," he gestured between him and Jack, "have complete immunity."

To say that Sam was intrigued would have been a severe understatement.

"Promise me Sam."

"Tell me and then if it is something that should leave this room, I will say that it was discovered while digging deeper into the shit show that this mess has become. Deal?"

"Deal." The two men said in unison.

Brock's revelation shook Sam to her core. "the last job that Marty ever worked was the elimination of the entire Fury Family."

A dropped pin could have been heard from how quiet the kitchen had fallen in light of Brock's revelation.

"When you say the 'Fury Family' do you mean Fury as in former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Nicholas J. Fury,  _that_  Fury?"

"Yeah."

"Fucking hell." Sam was stressed, she took a long drag of her beer. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit."

Both men stared at Sam as she processed what she was just told.

"Hold up, if a HYDRA assassin killed his entire family, how did Fury not find out from then that HYDRA was still alive and ruining people's lives?"

"Marty infiltrated a rival organisation and went after his target bearing their name" Jack explained. "Hence, Fury was none the wiser when he tracked down Marty and slaughtered him like a pig."

"He went after Fury's family and Fury himself," Brock took over, "he thought he had gotten everyone, but Fury and his nine year old niece survived the attack. Fury hid his niece away, to this day we still have no idea where she is."

"I think that's the idea." Sam said dryly, still trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing.

"He then went after Marty and there was nothing left of him after Fury was through with him."

"Just how many people were murdered?" Sam asked, not wanting to know but at the same time needing to know.

Jack at that moment decided to chug his beer, so Sam turned to look at Brock who was staring up at the ceiling.

"Do not make me repeat myself." The warning was clear.

"Four generations of the Fury Family was wiped out that day."

Sam was taken aback.  _Four generations._  

She felt as if she was going to be sick. It was just more and more horrifying revelations. She dropped her fork in her plate, and dragged her fingers through her hair, her face, actions,  _body language_  was the epitome of distress. 

"How can you be  _so_  evil?" She looked between both men, who looked rather uncomfortable at her question. "How can you look in the eyes of the man whose entire family died at the hands of your organisation and not feel a thing?"

"Do not pretend as if you are a saint." Brock harshly replied.

Sam bristled at his comment. "Excuse you, the fuck you mean by that?"

"You were a soldier Sam, how many innocents did you kill carrying out your duties?" 

"I was para-rescue, hardly any 'innocents' I killed, when and if I had to defend myself and the lives of my squad mates."

"And just how many of those individuals were people carrying out their own duties, protecting their country, village,  _families_?"

"You shoot at me and I  _will_  shoot back." Sam did not back down. "Tell me, just  _who_  from Fury's family shot at you, aside from Fury himself?" She smirked nastily when Brock was at a loss for words.

"Fact is Wilson, you have blood on your hands." He was beat but not backing down.

"Oh my God!" Sam, pushed away from the kitchen island and hopped down from the bar stool. "We  _all,_ " she made a circle like gesture with her hand indicating herself, Brock and Jack, "have blood on our hands. The only difference is that you two," she jabbed her fingers at Jack who was watching everything unfold calmly and Brock who was two seconds away from snapping, "actively sought out people to murder." 

"We were following orders just like you Sam."

"Bullshit! That is utter bullshit and you know it!" She turned around to face the windows, "oh!" She spun back around so fast, Jack wondered if she was dizzy, "another difference is that unlike you two, I am no child killer." She smiled sweetly knowing she had won this round.

 _That_  struck a chord with Brock who made to move from his spot at the kitchen island when Jack stopped him.

"Stay right where you are Brock." His eyes on his friend, his voice stern and Brock did as told, though not liking it one bit. "There is a discussion taking place and both of you will remain right where you are; keeping an immovable object between you at all times while this is hashed out." Jack's word was final and the two soul mates stared each other down  _hard_.

"Tell me Brock and this goes for you as well Jack, how many innocent children did you kill trying to get to their parents or some other family member all for the sake of fucking HYDRA?" 

Both men remained quiet as Sam's words sank in, knowing that they had no counter argument. 

"So, yeah, I do have blood on my hands, but not those of any innocents."

"Except for that of Riley." Brock snapped angrily, immediately regretting his words when Sam reared back as if he had physically struck her.

"Brock!" Jack yelled.

"Sam," He moved from around the kitchen island, trying to get closer to her. Jack's eyes watching them warily, waiting for the inevitable fist fight to begin. "I am sorry, I didn't-"

She stepped back from him and held up her hand. "Never apologise for what you say in anger; that is how you truly feel or what you truly meant."

He took another step towards her, hand outstretched, wanting to touch her but knowing it would not be well received. Distress over his words clearly shown on his face. "Sam, listen, I swear I did not mean that. I was angry and wanted to hurt you."

She laughed mirthlessly and that did something to his heart. "Well mission accomplished Brock."

"Sam-"

"Do you have a computer I can borrow?"

"A- what?" Brock was confused by this sudden change in conversation.

"A computer? I want to start digging up my father's past and I need a computer."

"Umm...yeah, you can grab the one from my bedroom." Brock offered, watching dejectedly as Sam walked away without another word. "I royally fucked up again didn't I?"

"You fucked up all the way to Sunday." Jack's glared would have made a lesser man run away. "Stop. Bringing. Up. Riley." He enunciated his words. "What is wrong with you? We just had a conversation, not even two hours ago, where I told you to quit it with the 'Riley’ shit, apologise and to stop antagonizing her and what do you do? You do the complete fucking opposite." He answered his own question, not giving Brock a chance. "Listen here man," he got up from where he was sitting. "I love you, I really do, but if she chooses to kill you in your sleep tonight, I am not doing a damn thing to stop her." Jack walked out of the kitchen, leaving Brock by himself to replay the last few minutes of his interaction with Sam in his head.

"I fucked up again." He said to the quiet of the kitchen.

* * *

Sam was staring at the laptop screen in front of her, the lamp beside her, casting the room and everything in it, in a warm glow. Night had fallen about half an hour ago and the rain and increased. The pounding for the rain drops against the roof and windows was background noise as she read the information she had dug up courtesy of long unused hacker skills. 

Displayed on the screen was all the information she had dug up on her father's military career, some of which was highly classified and redacted, that had not stopped her. What a lot of people did not know about Sam is that she is a highly competent hacker. This is something she kept close to her chest, no one, not even Riley knew about this skill. She was able to get in and get out, without anyone knowing she was ever there. In the night grade, she had hacked her high school's academic grade system and changed the grade for one of her friends so that he would have remained in the same class with her and the rest of her group of friends.

With a few key strokes, she had the uncensored files concerning her father and having read what she did, the words she had hurled towards Brock  _'we all have blood on our hands'_  kept running through her mind. She had managed to get a list of all her father's kills and it was not pretty. He had more kills  _than the Winter Soldier_ and she suspected that some were not on record _._  His last assignment recorded was in 1997; she was nineteen and in university at the time.Sam recalls her father attending many medical conferences overseas when he had left the military **.**

A knock on her door broke her out of her revere. "Come in."

The door swung open to reveal Jack. He folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the door jam. "How are you doing?"

Sam closed the laptop, placing it on the bedside table, she stretched out her legs in front of her from their folded position and did not miss the appreciative look Jack gave them. "I am doing ok." Her voice had his eyes snapping back up to hers. "I figured it was a better choice to walk away than break Brock's face."

Jack chuckled at that. "Yeah, that was a much better decision. Look, Brock is my best friend, but even I can admit that he can be a right asshole at time. Especially when interacting with you.”

"So, when he's cussing me out, that's my fault?" Sam tilted her head and regarded Jack, whom she could admit looked good standing there in the doorway, dressed in a soft looking grey t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants. She immediately gave herself mental shake when those thoughts entered her head.

"Not exactly, sometimes it is your fault for goading him, but I can honestly say that he really did not mean what he said downstairs. He maybe a genius, but there are times when he is real stupid and speaks before thinking."

Sam sighed and dropped herself back on her pillows, again not missing the look Jack gave her body as it laid stretched out on the bed and she felt warmth pool in low in her stomach.

Jack walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, a respectable distance away from Sam. "Look, Brock is a hot mess when it comes to you." 

Sam raised an eyebrow, as if to say  _'me?'_

"Just hear me out, Brock never expected to meet his soul-mate in his life time. He figured he would have been long dead thanks to doing HYDRA's work, but for some reason he found you on a battle field.

"You're really calling the middle of a busy freeway that was the scene of a major shoot-out a 'battlefield?"

Jack stared at her for a few minutes.

"What?"

"You are really infuriating."

"Why, thank you!"

He was genuinely amazed. "You have a sarcastic, caustic, venomous comment for everything said to you."

"Only if it involves Brock or Owen. And only if it is said by them."

"Can you shut up for five minutes-" Sam's eyebrows flew up "-and allow me to speak?" 

She made a miming motion of locking her mouth and throwing away the key. 

"Thank you." Jack's exasperation with her was showing.

"Brock when he puts his mind to it is a rather decent man."

Sam fought hard not to react to that.

"Believe it or not, but it is true. He is great with his family and kids. He loves children, trust me on that. Just try not to react to everything he says and do not start any arguments with him." Jack pleaded, "we will all be happier for it."

"Fine, I will try." Sam agreed.

"Great! Now here you go." He flipped a phone in the air and she caught it with one hand. "You can use that for when you are ready to call your father and Owen."

Sam stared at the phone in her hands. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it; it's Brock's phone."

She looked up then to see a shit eating grin on his face. 

"I unlocked it for you, so, snoop around, look through his photo album; there is a lot of blackmail material on that phone."

"Aren't you his best friend? Shouldn't you be protecting him?"

Jack rocked his head from side to side, thinking about her question. "I am and I do when the situation calls for it; but I see no harm in getting a little laugh at his expense."

"Ok, but when the shit hits the fan, I am throwing you under the bus."

"No problem there, I will survive." His voice was serious when he spoke again. "Just give him a chance to prove himself to you. Just a chance that is all I am asking." He made to get up when Sam's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"What about you?" She asked, staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"What about me?"

"Should I give you a chance as well? A chance to prove yourself?"

Jack swallowed at her question. "I don't understand what you are getting at." He lied, not a very good lie.

Sam sat up, drawing one of her legs up to rest her elbow on her knee, the other still stretched out in front of her "are you really going to pull that 'I don't know what you are talking about card' with me?" Her eyes bored into Jack's. "A blind man could see how you look at me."

Knowing that he was beat, Jack allowed his shoulders to drop, releasing the tension that had taken hold of his body at her question. "Sam," he moved his hand forward, grasping the ankle of her outstretched leg, rubbing the bone with his thumb. "The day you wish to give me a chance at something more than friendship, I will gratefully accept."

She cocked her head to the right, "more than friendship huh. Didn't know we were friends."

"Well I would like us to be." Jack gently squeezed her ankle. "But right now, we need to find your tormentor and I am not going to get in Brock's way when he is trying to do right by you."

"And failing miserably."

He smiled gently and removed his hand from her ankle.

Just then the lights flickered and the power went out, plunging the room in darkness. They heard a cry of outrage.

"Who the fuck turned off the bathroom light?!"

Jack snickered, "it's a power outage you idiot!" He shouted back.

"Oh! Sorry! My bad!"

Sam shook her head in mirth, "my soul-mate ladies and gentlemen."

* * *

The power outage lasted for the rest of the night, thanks to the storm. However, the good news was the phone lines were still working and since she could do no more digging, Sam resigned herself to making two phone calls she would rather not.

Sitting on the window seat in the kitchen, looking out into the dark as the rain pounded relentlessly on the roof, Sam rested her head against the cool glass, watching as each exhale of her breath fogged up the glass. She had already punched in her father's number, all she had left to do was hit 'call'. Such a simple task felt like she was wading through molasses.

Knowing that she did not want to put off the call for any longer, Sam hit the button and listened as the phone rang three times before being picked up.

 _"Hello?"_ Her father's voice was raspy from sleep. Checking the clock she saw that it was 1:26 a.m. but she did not feel tired in the least.

"Hi daddy."

 _"Sam?"_  

She heard bed sheets rustling as he moved.

_"How are you darling? I was so worried when you took off earlier."_

"Yeah, I had to get out of there." She inhaled sharply and removed the phone from her ear, dragging her fingers through her hair. "After hearing such a revelation from you, I had to get away." She said, putting the phone back to her ear. "It's not every day I am told that my father was a military assassin."

_"Darling, I know you were rather shocked-"_

"'Shocked' is not the word I would use." She bit out. "Appalled, horrified, repulsed, disgusted, distressed, disturbed-"

_"Alright Sam, I get what you are saying. But, please darling, I am begging for you to come back here. Your friends can keep you safe here, than wherever you are right now with Brock."_

Sam ignored his pleas, choosing instead to ask a question that had the other end of the call going dead with silence. "1997 was the last time you took an assignment, why?" 

 _"How do you know that?"_  Harry's voice was hard.

"I know about all your kills, even the redacted shit. Now, answer me, why did you 'retire' back in 1997?"

_"That does not concern you."_

"It does fucking concern me, when someone from your past is gunning for me." Sam sighed angrily, "you know what, it's ok you do not have to tell me, I will find out eventually. I always do."

_"Sam, just leave it alone, come back to the tower, where you will be properly secured. I am flying back to London tomorrow, where I will contact some of my former colleagues to see if they know anything."_

"I will come back when I am ready and as soon as I have more information. I have never had other people fight my battles and I am not about to start now."

 _"I know Sam. I know."_ Her father sounded tired; hell they were both tired, but she was also angry at what he had done and kept from her.  _"Look, once this is all over and done with, let's take a trip. Just us two. We can go back to that little inn in Norway, and visit The Olegs. They always ask for you any time I go there."_

Sam wasn't about to make any promises, but a trip to get away from all this shit sounded nice. Just her and her dad. "We will see."

_"That's all I ask for. Good night Sam. I will let you know when I am home."_

"Good night daddy."

She disconnected the call and immediately dialled Owen's number, wanting to get his call out of the way. 

He answered immediately answered, as if he was waiting on a call.  _"Hello?"_

"Owen, it's Sam." Not that she had to identify herself.

 _"Sam, I am sorry. I didn't-"_  Owen inhaled deeply and Sam clutched the phone tighter.  _"I wanted to get you to talk to me, I had to do something, say anything to get your attention and get you to talk to me and hindsight is a definitely a bitch. I never wanted to hurt you this badly."_

"All we seem to do is hurt each other." She said, just as Brock walked into the kitchen, pants hanging low on his hips, muscular upper body on full display, her eyes making out his form in the dark that her eyes had become accustom to. Brock ignored her and continued on his way to the fridge, Sam's eyes tracking him.

 _"But we don't have to."_  Owen sounded hopeful.  _"Come home, we can work everything out. Please Sam."_

Sam pinched her nose bridge, her eyes squeezed tight so that colours danced behind her eyelids. However, she felt when someone came to stand across from her; opening her eyes, she saw Brock leaning against the wall at the end of the window seat there was only a feet or two of space between them and for some reason, Sam felt bare sitting in the kitchen of Brock's cabin, using  _his_  cell phone to speak to her soon to be ex-husband while wearing Jack's old university t-shirt.

Lightening illuminated the kitchen and she caught his eyes staring at her before the world around them went dark again.

"Owen, believe me when I say that I still have a bit of love for you in my heart." Her eyes were on Brock even in the dark, " _but_ , it is not enough to overlook all the shit you have done."

_"Sam-"_

"No, I want a divorce." Her tone was final, as was her ending the call.

"Do you think he will listen this time?" 

Sam groaned, dropping her head in her hands. "I doubt it. He is one stubborn son of a bitch."

"I think I can get you what you want." 

"Oh?" She was intrigued. "At what price?"

"No price. I mean it." He tacked on when he felt more than saw Sam's distrustful look. "It won't be by any legal means, but there won't be any violence; just trickery."

"As long as there is no blood or black eyes, if you can get me a divorce from Owen Shaw, then by all means, go to town."

Just as she said that, there was a flash of lightening, illuminating the kitchen again and the wicked smile on Brock's face.

 


	17. You Want A Battle?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will give you a war and set the heavens on fire.
> 
> Brock gives Sam what she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter!!! :)
> 
> Look a new chapter!!!!
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"Good to see that you are still alive Francis." Brock greeted Jack when he stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, all sleep rumpled. The rain had ceased somewhere around dawn, with the sun coming out, with the scent of rain still in the air.

Sam looked between them, "who is 'Francis'?"

Jack sat down heavily beside her, grabbing a mug and the full coffee pot, pouring himself a full cup of black goodness. "Middle name's Francis." He finally answered after downing half of it. "Brock's just an asshole."

"Nothing is wrong with the name 'Francis'." Sam defended as Brock snickered by the stove.

"It is when you best friend nicknames you 'Francis with the big fanny'."

Brock began cackling and Jack rolled his eyes. 

“You are a child Brock.”

"Well, it is a nice ass, if that is any consolation." Sam commented, and Brock's cackling died when he turned to glare at his friend who was smiling smugly.

"Your soul-mate thinks I have a nice ass."

"Please do choke."

Jack grinned cheekily at his friend.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?"

"I have to make a trip to Avengers Tower."

"Why?"

Brock looked at Sam, seeking permission to inform Jack of what he was going to do. Sam gave her assent with a nod.

"I am going to get Owen to divorce Sam."

There was a moment of silence as Jack looked between Sam and Brock, clearly processing what he was just told. "And just how do you expect to achieve that? You going to kill him?"

"No." Brock looked genuinely offended by the suggestion. “And I have to make a stop on the way.”

Jack looked at Sam, "you're ok with this?"

She shrugged, "as long as he gets me what I want."

Jack looked back at Brock as if he had lost his mind. "He is going to kill you Brock."

Brock looked offended at his friend's words. "Do you have that little faith in me?"

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face while I am not there to have your back."

"I will be ok."

Jack still did not look one hundred percent sure, but said nothing, deciding to trust that his friend knew what he was doing. 

"Hey," Sam spoke up, bringing Brock's attention to her, "while you are there, get me some clothes please."

"Sure. In the meantime, Jack you will oversee Sam's protection, you do not leave her side. Wherever she goes you go."

"Roger that."

Sam did not argue, knowing that they were only concerned about her well-being. "Hope you know what you are doing Rumlow."

"Aww, is that concern I hear?"

"Do not ruin the moment Brock." Came the warning.

"Oh, were we having a moment?" Brock called out to Sam's back as she left the kitchen.

He looked to Jack who rolled his eyes.

* * *

"You mean to tell me that you found your soul-mate and you are just informing us of this because you need  _divorce papers_  drawn up for her?"

Brock sat in the warm and expensively furnished home office belonging to his lawyer mother, who sat across the wide polished Mahogany desk, her sharp and intense green eyes staring him down. "Well, when you put it like that it just sounds awful."

"Well, you are an awful son for keeping this from us." His mother's tone was stern, and Brock could not help but feel as if he was ten years old again and broke one of his father's priceless vases and tried to blame it on the dog.

"Come now Millie," his father's Scottish brogue spoke up from where he was sitting on the couch beside Brock's younger brother Brody who was enjoying Brock's suffering a little too much, "cut the lad some slack, I am sure he had a lot on his plate, what with finding out his soul-mate is an Avenger while he was working for the enemy.

Now that was a conversation that had gone over well when the shit had hit the fan. Brock is still surprised that his family had not disown when all hell had broken loose about HYDRA still being alive, and he an agent for them. He had called them and explained everything, conveniently omitting the fact that he had found his soul-mate.

"Edgar, I am five seconds away from slapping some sense into your son and you are not helping the situation." 

His father chuckled, "quit being such a hard-ass love and give the boy what he called and all but begged for."

Millie looked at her husband and then at Brock who was trying his best to become one with the chair he was sitting on. "After all this is done, I expect for you to bring Sam over for dinner. I would like to meet your other half."

Brock gulped, "that is a lot easier said than done mom. Sam still kind of hate my guts, hence, I do not think she will take kindly to me telling her that my _mother_ wants her over for dinner." 

"Brock," Brody's calm and quiet voice spoke up in the ensuing silence, "just do as mom says. You know she is not going to let up.”

Knowing he was beat Brock threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, just give me the papers, let me give Sam what she wants, and I will convince her to come over for dinner."

His mother withdrew a brown envelope from her desk drawer, standing up she walked around the desk to stand in front of Brock. "Here you go," she held out the envelope to Brock who took it from her. 

"Thank you, mom."

Her eyes gentle, she grasped his face in her soft but strong hands, "I hope you know what you are doing." She placed a kiss on his forehead and with his goodbyes to his father and brother Brock left the mansion he grew up in.

"Have you both looked into 'Sam Wilson' yet?" Brody asked once they were alone. His eyes not once leaving the tablet in his hands, "because from what I have seen so far she seems to be too good for Brock."

His mother and father sat on either side of him, looking at the information he had dug up on Sam along with a coloured photo of her in her military gear, her deep brown intelligent eyes staring back at them.

"They would make some real pretty babies." His father commented.

* * *

Owen was not amused at having been called back to Avengers Tower. He saw no point in being there since he was already interrogated, and Sam had fled the tower with another man. His blood burned with rage any time he thought of his wife running off and seeking shelter with that neo-Nazi piece of shit.

Just as before, he was escorted to the interrogation room and left to stew in his thoughts for thirty minutes, all the while knowing that someone was on the other side of the one-way mirror, just no idea as to who was there.

Both Tony and Steve stood on the other side of the mirror, watching Owen.

"Brock told you why he wanted to speak to Owen again?" Tony asked.

"No, just asked me to get him back here." Steve replied. Their eyes snapped to the interrogation's room door opening and saw Brock calmly walk in, a manila folder in hand.

The two men watched as the events in the room unfold.

"Nice to see you again Brock." Owen sneered, "where's my wife?"

Brock sat down before responding, "at my cabin in the protection of Jack."

Owen scoffed, "she would be better protected here."

"Yeah, well maybe when you finally leave she will come back."

"I can smell the blood in the water." Tony commented, his eyes glued on the two men on the opposite side of the mirror.

"The fuck do you want Brock? I am not in the mood to play games and I want to get the hell out of here."

"You are not alone in that sentiment; we all want you to get the hell out of here too." Brock sniped back before opening the envelope and withdrawing the documents in it. He pushed them across the table along with a pen. "Please affix your signature to the document before you."

Owen looked at the papers before him suspiciously.

"They don't bite."

His eyes met Brock's and the two men stared each other down over the table before Owen made a move and picked up the papers.

"This is my statement from yesterday."

Brock nodded, "that it is. Read through it, ensure that all the I's are dotted and all the T's crossed and then sign."

"Is this really necessary?" Owen waved the papers in the air. "This was not an actual police interrogation, why should I sign a statement?"

"My mother is a lawyer, call it covering my ass."

Owen looked ready to argue again but seemed to have thought better of it much to Brock's delight and went about signing the statement. There were four pages in total and in less than a minute they all had Owen Shaw's signature. He pushed the papers back over to Brock who replaced them in the manila folder.

"See how painless that was." Brock said as he got up, tapping the table with the folder, "thanks for this, you may go now."

Not wanting to be in present company any further, Owen got up and walked passed Brock. When he had the door open about to exit Brock's voice brought his attention back to him.

"Oh, just to let you know, Sam seems to be fond of Jack, if you know what I mean." Brock knew he had managed to rile up the other man from the slight tensing of his shoulder muscles.

"Loving her is like shaking hands with the devil, be sure you know what you are getting yourself into with this pursuit of my wife." The door to the interrogation room slammed closed.

Brock could not keep the smile from his face, he would love to see the look on his face when his copy of divorce papers is sent to him. He exited the room a few minutes later to see Steve and Tony standing outside in the hallway.

"What are you up to?" Tony asked, rightly suspicious. "You have a very smug smile on your face."

"Honestly, nothing I just enjoy riling him up. It is just so easy; one mention of Sam's name and he gets all possessive." Brock rolled his eyes in disgust, "I have no idea what she saw in him."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "you sure you should be throwing stones, calling him 'possessive'? As soon as you found out Sam was your soul-mate you tried to kidnap her."

"Well considering your words, I should have just grabbed her from the back of the transport van when I was instantly seeing in colour."

"Thanks for not doing that." The sarcasm was heavy in Tony's voice. "Anything else you require before you skedaddle?"

"Clothes for Sam and toiletries." He said. Once he had the items for Sam, Brock was escorted down to the garage by Steve. 

"How is she?" Steve asked when Brock was getting into his car.

Brock stood, one leg in the car and the other out on solid ground as he leaned against the car door. "She is managing. All these secrets coming to light is troubling her, but you know Sam, she is strong and resilient, she just keeps pushing on no matter what."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Just take care of her; watch her back."

"I will tell her to call you later when I get back." He got into the car fully, closed the door and started the engine. "Hey Steve, he called out through the open car window, “I will always have Sam's back, whether she wants me to or not." With his piece said, Brock drove out of the tower.

* * *

Thanks to the lack of midday traffic Brock made it back to his cabin in record time. He found Sam on the back porch watching Jack as he did his midday meditation by the Lily pond.

"Power still out?" He asked as he took a seat on the railing, making sure not to block Sam's view of his best friend for reasons he was not going to examine too closely.

Sam's eyes cut to him, "yeah."

They lapsed into silence and Brock knew what she wanted to ask him, so without dragging out the suspense any further or making her beg (something he really wanted her to do), Brock handed her the envelope with the signed statement. Sam accepted it with mild curiosity, only for said curiosity to turn into confusion when her brain registered what her eyes were seeing.

"I know I am missing something here," Sam laid the papers in her lap and looked up at Brock, "but I have no idea what. This looks like a signed statement by Owen."

Brock nodded, "that it is; it is also your divorce papers."

Sam was now more confused than a chameleon in a bad of M&M's. "How?"

Smiling Brock held out his hands for the papers which Sam relinquished without any fuss. She watched closely as Brock picked at the edge of one of the sheet of papers, her eyes widening when it peeled apart as if he was pulling the non-adhesive piece from the back of a sticker. When the now obviously two sheets of papers were separated, Brock handed her one of them and Sam felt her breathing stop as she took in the typed words at the top.

 

**Dissolution of Marriage**

**Samantha Theresa Wilson-Hart**

**(Former Martial Name: Shaw)**

**and**

**Owen Ewen Shaw**

 

While Sam was busy trying to reconcile what she was seeing to believing it was real, Brock took the time to separate the other sheets of papers, placing them beside her on the porch swing where she sat. 

"You-" she began to speak, and Brock was mildly alarmed at hearing the tears in her voice. Sam swallowed, took a deep breath and looked at the other sheets of papers, all of which had Owen's signature affixed to them. "Holy shit." She leaned her head back, staring up the ceiling above her feeling tears run down the side of her face.

"Sam?" Brock wanted to reach out to her but did not think his touch would be welcomed. "Are those 'thank God I am finally free' or "what the fuck am I doing' tears?"

Sam laughed before answering, her smile all the answer Brock needed. 

"They still require your signature and as soon as you sign them, I will take them to my mother to have the process of your divorce completed."

"Your mother?"

"She's a lawyer." 

"That is very ironic." Sam said, a teasing tone in her voice.

"About that," Brock was hesitant about what he was going to tell her, not wanting to ruin the good mood she was in, in what seemed like a very long time. "My family knows about you and my mother told me to invite you over to the family house for dinner."

To say that Sam was taken aback would have been the understatement of the year. She had expected everything but  _that_.

"and Steve will be expecting a call from you later." He hurriedly tacked on.

"Your mother wants to meet me?" She was not angry but curious. "She  _does_  know that we are not together."

Brock inhaled deeply, "I made sure to impress upon her how much you hate me."

"Yet she still wants to meet me?"

"She wants to meet my other half."

Sam was quiet for a moment, running the request through her head. "Ok."

"Ok?" Brock perked up, "Ok what?"

"Once this entire fiasco of who is trying to kill me is dealt with, I will go to your mother's place for dinner."

Brock was elated, never in a million years did he ever think that she would agree to something like this. "Thank you Sam."

"Yeah, did you bring me my clothes?"

"Yes, I did." He presented her with a black duffel bag. "Your laptop and phone are in there as well."

Sam looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, "well aren't you such a good little helper."

Brock sarcastically laughed at her none too funny jab at his helpfulness as she entered the cabin.

"Would you look at that." Jack called out from behind Brock, waiting until his friend turned to give him his most shit eating grin. "A second conversation with Sam that did not end in bloodshed, death threats or someone storming off angry. I am so proud of you both."

Not bothering to deign that statement with a verbal response, Brock flipped off his friend whose laughter followed him into the cabin.

* * *

Power had finally been restored and Sam was currently curled into a corner of the couch in the living room on her laptop, digging up everything and anything she could find on her father's time in the military and afterwards, _especially afterwards_. Jack had left a few hours ago to get some stuff from his apartment and Brock was out in the garden tending to his flowers.

Going into this Sam knew that she would not like what she found regarding her father's less than stellar background, but to see clearly before her in black and white all his confirmed kills, sometimes entire families made her green around the gills.

"Guess you never really know those who are closest to you." 

"Who are you talking to?"

Sam jumped, almost knocking her laptop to the ground in the process. "Give me a heart attack why don't you." She said as Brock walked around the couch into her line of sight.

"Sorry, years of moving silently sometimes I forget to make noise."

Sam looked him up and down, his shirt and jeans smeared with dirt. "You finish out there?"

Brock glanced out a window and back to her, "for now. I want to go to the flower market tomorrow and get some tulip bulbs and fertilizers. Want to come with me?"

"Yeah, might do me some good to get out of here and get some fresh air." She leaned her head back against the couch, closing her eyes and squeezing her nose bridge with her thumb and index finger.

"What are you looking at?” Brock asked.

"Here." She turned her laptop and gave it to him.

Brock sat at the edge of the coffee table, not wanting to mess up the chairs and read what was before him on the screen. "What exactly am I looking at?" He stared at the screen some more, his eyes widening when his brain finally processed what he was seeing. "Did you  _hack_ into  _MI5?_ " He turned shocked eyes on her.

Sam blew out a breath and sprawled out on the couch. "I did, not that they are of much help either." At Brock's questioning look she elaborated. "Every single one of his assignments during his time in the military and afterwards was documented in detail, except for one. His last assignment. The only two pieces of information I have on it is a date and a very vague location, The Middle East. Not much to go on."

Brock gave her back the laptop before standing. "Well since it's you, I am sure you will find out more."

Sam regarded him with a tilt of her head. "You know, this whole new way of acting," She gestured at Brock, "it's a whole one eighty degree from how you were when we first met."

"Oh, don't worry," Brock stood to his full height, leering down at Sam. "I am still me, I just received some helpful advice on how to behave differently." He shrugged, "end game is still the same, making you mine. The means of doing that are the only things that changed."

"You looking for a fight Rumlow?"

"No, I am not. Just stating a fact."

"You sound so sure of yourself."

"I am."

"I just got rid of one guy. What makes you so sure that I will take up another one and this time create an unbreakable bond? Why in hell would I do that?"

"We have ways of surprising ourselves Sam."

"Go take a shower Brock. You need it." Sam dismissed.

"Yes, ma'am." Brock smirked, stripping off his shirt while still in Sam's view point as he headed upstairs.

* * *

The next day saw Sam trailing behind Brock as he made his way through the flower market, occasionally stopping to chat with some of the vendors and check out their wares. Sam took the opportunity to watch him; from his physical appearance alone, she never would have guessed that he had such a green thumb. 

Sam looked around at the brightly coloured market thanks to all the flowers and plants on sale, ranging from decorative to edible to medicinal. Her nose itched, wanting to sneeze from the different scents emanating from each plant and coming together to form one unidentifiable scent.

"Hey," she called out to Brock, waiting until she had his attention before speaking. "I am going to look at the flowers on the other side." 

Brock eyes did a quick sweep of the place before looking back at her. "Keep your eyes and ears open for danger. If you feel like you are being watched or followed, come straight back to me. If you are attacked, you have a gun, a knife and your skills, use them."

Sam blinked at all the orders he just gave her. "Thank you so much for making my paranoia return." She said dryly.

"Be as sarcastic as you want Sam, but I do not need  _your_  death on my conscience."

" _You_ have a  _conscience_? Can you even spell the word?"

"Don't you have some flowers to go and look at?" Brock turned his back to her, his dismissal clear.

Sam smirked and rolled her eyes, "don't tell Jack I was mean to you ok?" She called out as she walked away. She meandered her way back through the many stalls, walking back out where there was more space to walk, stopping at the first stall that exhibited flower pots, little decorative garden statues and wind chimes. When nothing caught her interest she moved on, this time to a stall selling flowers.

"What flowers are these?" Sam asked the vendor, her eyes looked at a pot filled with a mixture of dark purple, pale lavender and white flowers.

 _"Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow."_  An accented voice said from behind her. An accent she recognised after years of hearing it, but the voice sounded young, boyish. Turning she came face to face with a youthful handsome face with a charming mischievous smile. The young man standing before her, was a little taller than her, with brown hair carefully brushed back, some of it peeking out from beneath the cap he wore, that shaded green eyes from the sun.

"Interesting name." Sam replied.

"And beautiful as well." The stranger replied, and Sam did not miss the double meaning in his words as she watched him blatantly roam her body with his eyes.

Sam smiled and shook her head, "what's with that name?"

The stranger glanced at the flowers and back at Sam. "It was given that name due to how quickly the petals change colour. In a day it goes from a shade of dark purple to white. It's also poisonous."

"Ah, of course it is." Sam looked back at the flowers but kept her guard up, subtlety keeping an eye on the man speaking to her. "All the pretty things in life are usually poisonous."

"Not always." The stranger disagreed.

Sam turned to take a closer look at him. "You are a far way from Wales Mister...?" She trailed off.

"Gary." The stranger introduced himself, his smile rivalling the brightness of the sun. "Please call me 'Gary'."

"Sam." She introduced herself, shaking Gary's outstretched hand.

Gary took back his hand, sticking it in his jeans pocket, the picture of calm and relaxed but something about him was off. Sam could just not figure out what it was and so she subtlety moved her hand and touched the handgun she had strapped to the small of her back under her t-shirt. 

"I take it since you know my accent that you have been to Wales."

"My ex-husband is from Wales."

"Oh." Gary's smile got even brighter if that was possible. "Well his lost."

"Huh-uh." Sam knew Owen was going to raise hell when he found out that he was tricked into signing divorce papers. 

"But Sam, if you listen closely you, yourself have a  _slight_  accent as well." Gary made a gesture with his thumb and index finger to show just how 'slight' her accent was and that had alarm bells going off in Sam's head. 

 _No one_ , had ever mentioned hearing the slight accent that was sometimes heard in Sam's voice when she spoke, not even Riley.

"Spent some time abroad." She said, not giving away that she had British citizenship.

Gary opened his mouth to say something when his eyes shifted to something behind Sam and his mouth snapped shut.

"Who's your friend Sam?" 

She heard Brock asked before she felt his taller and broader body come to stand beside her.

"Name's Gary." He introduced himself with that same charming smile from before, but Sam could see that there was an edge to it. "Was just talking to Sam here about flowers."

Brock eyed him up and down, "yeah, I'm sure."

Gary gave a small huff of breath. "No need to get hostile, I was not trying to move in on your girl."

"I am not his girl."

"She's my soul-mate."

Sam and Brock said in unison respectively.

"And with that I will take my leave. Sam it was nice meeting you. Hope to see you again."

"Don't count on it." Brock called out to Gary's retreating back to which he received a jaunty wave. "I don't like him."

"Something we can agree on."

Brock looked at her, "come on, let's get back to the cabin."

As they drove back to the cabin, Brock kept checking the rear-view and side-view mirror in case they were being followed.

"For fuck's sake Brock stop that." Sam snapped after the seventh time he checked the rear-view mirror.

Brock looked at her from the corner of his eye before focusing back on the road. "You know, considering someone is gunning for you, you could be a little more vigilant."

Sam turned her body as much as she could with the seat belt across her body and folded her arms over her chest. "Really?  _Really_ Brock? You tried to kidnap me  _three times_ , one of those times you travelled across the pond to carry out the act. Then you threaten to rape me, trust me I have no need to be vigilant, I am fucking  _paranoid_."

"Sam, I swear I am not trying to start a fight but with everything that is happening and the moment you leave my side some guy is chatting you up, you cannot blame me for being a bit hostile and suspicious."

She knew he was just being cautious and that took some of the fight out of her. "I know." She reached up and pulled her hair tie out of her hair, allowing her hair to fall free and the tension on her head to be released. "I know, and I will admit that something about him rubbed me the wrong way. Not to mention that he was able to pick up on the fact that I have a slight accent."

"Accent? What accent?" Brock asked confused.

"See!" Sam exclaimed, "he is the only person aside from my parents who has pointed out that I have a slight accent when speaking."

Brock hit the steering wheel in recognition, "right your father is British; that would explain the 'accent'. Still can't hear it though."

"Not a lot of people can."

They made it back to the cabin without incident and Sam helped Brock unload the items he bought at the market. Once that was done, Sam immediately put one of her other talents to use. She sat at the kitchen island and drew Gary from memory; it was as realistic a drawing she could create down to the twinkle in those green eyes of his. On a separate sheet of paper, she wrote down where he was from including where he had approached her.

"What are you doing?" Brock asked when he walked into the kitchen to see Sam diligently working hard on something. He peeked at one of the sheet of papers and whistled. " A woman of many talents. Is that the guy from earlier?"

"Yeah." Sam got up from her seat. "Can I borrow your fax machine?"

"Knock yourself out."

"Thanks." Sam got up from her seat, heading in the direction of Brock's home office.

"Do you want some iced tea?" 

She heard Brock call out to her.

"Yes." Once she had sent the drawing, information, as well as instructions on what she wanted done to Tony, Sam headed back into the kitchen just in time for Brock to turn holding out a glass of iced tea to her. She stretched out her hand to take the glass from him. "Thank y- Brock the glass is leaking."

They both looked at the dark liquid dripping from the glass onto the floor when they both heard glass breaking only for the window closest to them to shatter and a bullet to lodge itself in the wooden cabinet between them.

"Shit!" Brock cursed. "Get down!" The moment he let go of the glasses and tackled Sam to the floor, they were met with a hail of gunfire.

Scrambling back, Sam and Brock sought refuge behind the kitchen island.

"Fucking hell!" Sam shouted to be heard over the gunfire, "can you see where the shooter is?" She turned to see Brock inching his was to the corner of the island when the fruit bowl on top was shot up and shards of glass rained down on them, slicing their flesh.

"Goddamn!" Brock flung himself back beside Sam almost knocking her over on her side. "We have to get down to the basement!"

Sam shot him a look. "That's going to be hard with some asshole trying to use us for target practice!"

There was a moment when the gunfire ceased, silence immediately suffocating them, and Brock signalled to Sam to stay down as he slowly got to his knees and then into a crouch to look over the top of the island. He saw nothing through the window that had its glass shot out. That is when they heard the shattering of the French door's glass that led to the back yard and the thud of something heavy hitting the floor. 

"Move!"

Sam was already up and out of the room at the command, making sure to stay low, Brock right on her heels.

"It's a flash bang!" He said just as it went off, lighting up the world around them and making their ears ring. 

Another barrage of gunfire started, this time though aiming for them in the living room. Brock broke away from Sam and dove to the coffee table upending it and grabbed the semiautomatic gun he kept under it. Meanwhile Sam sought shelter by the staircase. 

"Got another one of those?!"

"Yeah!" Brock answered as he army crawled to the window. "Second step, it’s fake, just lift it and grab what you need."

Sam did as told, her eyes widening when she saw the small arsenal he kept there. Without thinking twice, she grabbed two hand guns, extra magazines for each and a ka-bar knife.

"Can you see  _anything?_ " She asked Brock who was now to the side of the window, trying to get a glimpse of their attacker.

"Not one fucking thing. Gunfire is too heavy." he turned to look at her. "We need to leave. Now."

Just then another flash-band grenade was thrown through the window and it landed on the ground spinning right by the coffee table.

"Shit!" Brock dove just as it went off, trying to get as far from it as possible. His ears were ringing, and his head hurt but he had to get them out of there. He had to get Sam out of there. He tried pushing himself up but could not seem to muster the focus to do so until he felt small but strong hands wrap around his bicep and waist, doing their best to assist getting him up off the floor.

"Come on Brock." Sam grunted as she pulled him behind the staircase. "You said we need to get to the basement to escape. Any other point of access for it."

"Yeah." He reached out his hand and pressed one side of the base of the staircase and Sam watched in amazement as a partition opened before them. "Through there." He gestured with the hand holding his gun. "You first."

He didn't have to tell Sam twice as she bolted into the dark corridor, Brock right behind her.

"Keep walking straight, as we walk lights will come on to light the way." 

True to his words, lights came on and Sam was able to see in front of her. 

"Hold your hands out in front of you" Brock told her. "You're about to touch the end of the corridor in 3,2,1."

Sam did as instructed and as soon as he said '1' she felt a wall in front of her and she pushed on it. The 'wall' moved aside allowing both her and Brock entrance into his basement. Once they entered, the wall slid back into place and she heard a beep.

"Locking mechanism." Brock explained when she looked at him curiously. 

"Ok, how do we get out of there?"

Sam watched as Brock walk over to what looked like a large old chest and flipped up the top. He turned to look at her and pointed.

"Down through here."

"What kind of 'Alice In Wonderland' shit you got going on Rumlow?" Sam asked even as she walked over to the chest and looked down to see that there was a ladder leading down a drop of about five feet.

"The kind of shit that is going to save our lives. So, get in and go down and keep walking. I am right behind you."

As soon as he finished speaking, there was a loud boom and the earth shook. They both looked at each other in alarm.

"The fuck was that?"

Brock looked up at the ceiling as if he could see what was happening. "Whoever is up there might be dropping bombs. Let's go."

Sam climbed down the opening and when she landed in the underground tunnel, she saw that it was well lit and wide enough for two persons to walk side by side comfortably. She was already a few feet ahead when Brock jogged to catch up to her. 

"You had it all planned out." She commented, looking at him as he kept glancing back at the way they came.

"Working for HYDRA, you gotta always have an exit strategy."

"And your exit strategies gotta have exit strategies." Sam added.

"So damn true." He agreed.

They walked for about ten minutes, continuing in a straight line. There were no bends, no forks in the road. Once they reached the end of the line, Brock climbed up the ladder that led to the only exit or entrance and pressed his thumb to the biometric lock. There was a beep and a click, and he pushed open the door, climbing out first and holding his hand out for Sam, who when she was finally out of the tunnel saw that they were now in barn, that housed two motorcycles and two  _Ranger Rovers._

"Get in." Brock motioned to the vehicle closest to them.

Inside the vehicle Sam noticed a black duffel bag on the back seat and instinct told her to check under her seat where she felt a gun strapped to the underneath. "You really were prepared, weren't you?" She commented as the vehicle was started and they drove to the barn doors that opened automatically. 

Brock turned right on a dirt road, well pass the speed limit. "Check the glove compartment, there's a burner phone in there, call Steve."

Just as Sam reached forward to open the glove compartment, something in the side-view mirror caught her eyes and she spun around in her seat, her eyes wide in horror.

Clouds of thick black smoke was rising to the clear blue sky. 

"Brock," her eyes widen as she realised where the smoke was coming from. "Your cabin Brock; it’s on fire."

The vehicle came to a sudden stop and Brock mirrored Sam's position. Brock felt something break inside him as he saw the smoke rise and knew that there would be nothing left of his beloved cabin that he had fell in love with at first sight. With sigh, he continued driving until the smoke was a black dot in the distance. Trying to liven the situation he joked, "good thing I gave your divorce papers to Jack to drop off for me."

Sam looked at him, both tired and weary, "that is not funny Brock."

"I know."

Both reeling from the violent attack just moments ago, Sam called Steve and it was quite an interesting conversation and she was relieved that Tony had received the fax she sent of the drawing and information. Sam finally ended the call and sat back in her seat. 

"I do not believe in coincidences Sam.” Brock’s voice was emotionless.

"Yeah, me neither" Sam agreed, her eyes looking out the car window watching as the scenery rushed pass.

“We just have to find out how he is connected to your father.”

"And possibly Owen as well.” She suddenly felt tired both mentally and physically; not sure if it was from the adrenaline leaving her body or from the shit hitting the fan once again. “Let's just get back to the tower in one piece and go from there."

 


	18. Careful Where You Walk; There Are Landmines Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension and tempers run high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a only a few more chapters left in this fic. I know how I am going to end it, I just need to get the idea down on paper first. :)
> 
> In addition; I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this fic from the start and I just want to let you know that I have many more Sam/Brock ideas. 
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

It had been two days since the attack on Sam and Brock and they had yet to uncover any information regarding their newest suspect. They sought refuge at Avengers Tower, with Sam moving back into the apartment she was previously occupying before her hasty retreat, and Brock was given an apartment as well, that he had yet to leave.

Sam would never admit it, not even under torture but she was worried about him. During their escape when they both realised that their assailants had set his cabin on fire, Brock became extremely quiet and withdrawn. He only spoke when spoken to and if someone did not seek him out, then he was not seen.

Sam sat in the conference room, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the desk crossed at the ankles. She had been staring up at the ceiling for the past ten minutes since ending one of the many phone calls she has had with her father since informing him of what had transpired. 

On the table before her was the sketching of Gary and the information she had faxed to Tony. Sam had stared at the image for hours, repeatedly asking herself,  _'who are you?'_. So, caught up in her own thoughts, Sam did not hear the opening and closing of the conference room door until the newcomer was literally standing over her.

"Being mighty productive are we." Brock said, a sneer in his voice and a scowl on his face.

* * *

"You got anything yet?" Was the first thing out of Steve's mouth in lieu of greeting as he entered Tony's lab.

Tony turned and gave Steve a flat look. "'Why, good morning Tony. How are you? Did you sleep well?' No Steve, I have been up for more than thirty-six hours going through every data base known to man trying to find something on our mystery person."

"So, have you found anything?" Steve asked, ignoring Tony's sarcasm. 

"I might have found something, but I am still attempting to have something concrete before I get everyone's hopes up. Our mystery person seems have some sort of fixation with Sam's father.

"Harry?" Steve questioned, confusion on his face.

"Yeah, once he left the army, he would attend and make presentations at various medical conferences around the world and guess who was present for almost every single one of them." Tony brought up about a dozen holographic screens, all of them showing Gary at the medical conferences that Harry were present for.

"Gary."

"Yup." Tony popped the 'p'. "Remember when Sam was shot after that mission you all had with Jack?"

"Yeah." Steve answered, not sure where he was going with this.

"Get this, he had attended a medical conference in Switzerland, where Harry was the guest speaker a week before. When Sam's house was burnt down, he was at another conference three days before and now with the attack on Sam and Brock, he was present at a conference that Harry should have been at but seeing as he was out here to support his daughter."

"That might have upset Gary, causing him to step out of character and make contact with Sam." Steve reasoned.

"Exactly." Tony snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. "I know two is only a coincidence, but that is one hell of a coincidence."

"Ok, say that he has some link to Sam's father, what is it? Bastard child? Could he be the child of one of Harry's many hits?"

Tony yawned widely and stretched. "Fuck if I know Cap. Sam sent the drawing to Harry but he claimed to not know who he is."

"You don't believe him."

"He lied to Sam about his past when she asked him about it repeatedly. Why should we believe anything he say now, especially if it casts him in a bad light?"

"You have a point." Steve conceded. "Get some rest and good work Tony."

* * *

"Glad to see you out of your room Brock." Sam said. "How are you?"

Brock rolled his eyes at her before moving to sit in the chair beside her. "How do you think I am?"

"I am not trying to start a fight Brock." She said with a tired sigh.

"That's a first."

"Have you informed Jack of what happened?" She asked, hoping to calm whatever storm was brewing before it had a chance to hit.

"Yeah." Brock mirrored her pose, lacing his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. "He will be here later."

"Good."

"For you or for me?"

Sam glanced at Brock and knew he was itching for a fight.

"For you Brock. You need your friend."

"You found anything?" His tone was aggressive, but Sam chose to ignore it.

Sam rubbed her forehead with her hand. "No, I have a headache, I am tired and jumpy. I am so damn  _tired_." 

"Not you one."

There was a momentary lapse of silence before either one spoke again.

"I am sorry about your cabin. I knew how much you loved it."

Brock scoffed, his green eyes meeting hers. "The first time I brought you to my cabin you threatened to burn it down with me in side it."

"Fuck's sake Brock. That was then."

"Oh," he raised an eyebrow, "and what changed between then and now?"

Getting real tired of his snide mouth and behaviour Sam heaved a heavy sigh, swung her legs down from the table and sat up in her chair to face Brock. 

"Nothing Brock. Not a goddamn thing has changed. But there is some psycho out there gunning for me and he burnt down your cabin trying to get to me and for that I am sorry. So, stop being such an asshole."

"Me?" Brock sat up aggressively, turning to face Sam who did not lean back when he leaned forward menacingly. "I am being an asshole, when all those times you have been nothing but an utter bitch."

"And with good reason. FYI, if you think calling me a 'bitch' is going to get under my skin, better think again sweetheart."

Brock scoffed, looking her up and down. "Shaw likened loving you to shaking hands with the devil."

"But you don't love me." Sam pointed out. "No, you want to own me."

Standing up, Brock looked down at her with nothing but scorn in his eyes. 

"Keep looking at me like that and I will rearrange your face for you  _violently_." Sam promised. Standing herself, Sam got in Brock's face as much as she could. "You are nothing but a means to an end."

Brock's eyes narrowed, they were chest to chest. Anger was swimming through their veins and neither one was backing down any time soon. 

"And you are nothing but an object to be claimed."

"Go and fuck yourself, Nazi cunt." Sam had barely finished her words when Brock's hand shot out, delivering a shattering right hook across her jaw. The force of the blow sent Sam staggering back into the desk, sending some of the chairs scattering. The moment was still, the sound of Brock's heavy breathing filled the room as he watched Sam right herself and wipe the back of her hand across her mouth, seeing it come away red with blood. 

Sam turned her head to face Brock and the look on her face was the look of all hell breaking loose. "We never did get to finish our fight in the Triskelion. You up for  _round 2_  Nazi?"

"Yeah," Brock shoved away the chair that was between them. "Show me how much of a devil you are bitch."

* * *

Steve had just left Tony's lab when Jarvis spoke.

_"Excuse me Captain Rogers, but there an urgent situation in the conference room that needs your immediate attention."_

"What is it?"

_"Sergeant Wilson and Mr. Rumlow are currently having an all-out brawl with each other."_

Steve took off running at full speed upon hearing that. "Jarvis, inform everyone who is close by to get in there and break them up."

_"Right away."_

* * *

Brock had Sam pinned to the conference table, but she had managed to reverse their positions and was about to deliver a third punch straight to his extremely bloody, fast swelling face when the doors to the room where violently flung open and she was roughly pulled off him.

"The fuck is wrong with the two of you?!” 

Sam was distantly aware of Bucky's voice in her ear and his metal arm tight around her waist as she fought hard to attack Brock who was being held back by both Clint and Natasha.

"Let me at the lil' bitch, we have a score to settle." Brock snarled but made no move to try and break away from his human shackles.

"And you were on the losing end Nazi cunt." Sam sneered, having calmed down a bit; no longer trying to get out of Bucky's hold.

"I cannot tell who was winning from the looks of you both." Clint commented.

And it was true, Sam's shirt was torn and covered in both her and Brock's blood, she had a split lip that was bleeding along with a cut on her very bruised cheek and a cut by the corner of her left eye that were steadily leaking blood. Brock would soon be sporting a black eye; his nose was bleeding as was his lip and cheek as well. There was a bite mark on his forearm that was bleeding heavily and would require stitches. They both sported busted knuckles from attempting to beat the shit out of each other.

By the time, Steve, Tony and Bruce had arrived, the two brawlers had both calmed down somewhat and were on either side of the room, no longer being restrained but had been banned by a murderous looking Natasha from speaking, much less looking in each other's direction.

Steve stepped into the room and took one look at the scene before him. The room was a mess, as were Sam and Brock. Sam was bracing against the window looking out at the world below having refused any medical treatment; while Brock was seated in a chair, being treated by Clint who was trying to stop the bleeding from the bite mark.

"What the hell happened here?" Bruce asked, wonder in his voice, his eyes wide.

Both Sam and Brock remained quiet.

"Can one of you please inform the rest of us why you both thought it was a great idea to use my conference room as a boxing ring?" Tony asked looking between the two from his perch on the desk.

Again, they remained silent.

"What set you off this time?" Steve asked none too gently, getting tired of the silence. "I asked you both a question that I want an answer to  _now_."

"Who threw the first punch?" Clint tried.

Continued silence.

Natasha tried. "Who threw the first _word_?"

"Alright," Steve sighed, "this is getting ridiculous. You are both grown ass adults so act like it."

"I think that might have been me." Brock finally spoke, all eyes in the room except for Sam focusing on him. "I was rather aggressive while speaking when I first came it. Then it just escalated from there."

"Ok," Tony clapped his hands together, "finally we are getting somewhere. Then who threw the first punch?" All eyes turned to Sam who was still staring out the window.

"Me again." Brock owned up. "I definitely threw the first punch." 

"Tension and tempers running high. Trust me I get it." Bruce's soft and mild voice spoke, "but that is no excuse to take it out on the person who is currently in your corner."

 _That_  finally got Sam to turn around and face the room.

"Brock is not in anyone's corner but his own."

"Excuse you," Brock cut her off.  "Just who did I trick Owen into signing divorce papers for?"

"What?!"Six voices asked at the same time.

Sam paid them no mind, "you did that so that you can have a chance with me; not for me."

Brock clenched his jaw as he glared at Sam. 

"What? Say what you wanna say. Never stopped you before."

"Fuck you Wilson."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you."

There was a sharp whistle courtesy of Tony. "Ok, both of you shut up and go to your respective apartments until you have calmed down."

"Wait," Sam glanced at Brock before looking back at Tony. "Are you  _grounding_  us?"

"Yes." Tony's tone brooked no argument. "Now move your asses. You both will be escorted back to your apartments since you cannot be trusted not to start another fist fight."

Bucky escorted Sam out first, with Brock and Clint following at a distance.

* * *

"So, I heard that you and Sam had a school yard fight earlier." Jack said by way of greeting when he walked into Brock's apartment of few hours later.

"Ha fucking ha." Brock said, his tone dry.

"I was also informed that both your asses are on lock down until you both calm your shit."

"We are grounded."

Jack sat down heavily on the couch beside a sulking Brock. "Must bring back memories from your childhood."

Brock snorted, "my mother never grounded me. She would beat my ass, while my father reminded her not to kill me in the process."

"Still didn't help ya." Jack joked before becoming serious as he gave his best friend his undivided attention. "Broke my heart hearing about your cabin; almost gave me a heart attack. I know how much you loved it."

"You and Wilson must be on the same wavelength. She said the exact same thing to me."

"Yeah? Was that before or after you tried to beat the shit of out her?"

Brock glanced at his friend, "it was a mutual attempt at trying to beat the shit out of each other."

"And that makes it all the better?"

Brock remained silent and Jack sighed. "I'm glad both of you are ok. Physically at least. You both may never have been mentally stable a day in your lives."

Brock lightly punched Jack on his arm. "Fuck off."

"Oh, I plan to." Jack said standing, before reaching down to pull an unexpecting Brock up into a tight hug. "I am so fucking glad you are ok man." Brock wrapped his arms around his friend, returning the hug. "Let's just get out of this shit storm together and we can start rebuilding your place."

"Yeah." Brock quietly agreed.

* * *

Sam sat in her apartment, an ice pack held to her sore cheek as she stared at nothing ahead. The quiet had been deafening, but she could not find it in herself to do anything to get rid of it. The same thought kept spinning in her head ' _who are you?'_

 _"Sergeant Wilson,_ " Jarvis interrupted her thoughts.  _"Mr. Rumlow is asking for permission to enter."_

"Let him in Jarvis."

A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened, and Brock walked out, sporting his own ice pack as well.

"Would you look at that, we're twins." Sam said dryly.

"Still the better-looking twin though." Brock joked back, trying to ease the tension that was in the room. "May I sit?" He pointed to the armchair adjacent to the couch.

"You gonna try and hit me again?"

Brock thought about it, "right now, no. In the future possibly."

Sam rolled her eyes and gestured for him to sit. "A pair of soulmates we are. Fate must have a twisted sense of humour for putting us together." 

"Yeah," Brock agreed, stretching out his legs in front of him. "We might rip each other to shreds before we catch whoever's targeting you."

"We would be such a disappointment to Steve."

They shared a laugh at Sam's joke before sobering.

"In all serious honesty though Sam, I am sorry for earlier."

Sam heard the sincerity in Brock's voice as he spoke.

"I was angry; still angry in fact, but I should not have taken it out on you. I-" he sighed heavily, removing his ice pack from his face and fiddling with it, "sorry."

Sam observed him, Brock was currently slouched down in the chair, he looked tired. Thinking back on it, she had never seen him in such a state. All the times before Brock was either cocky, aggressive, ruthless, blood thirsty, jovial, sarcastic and many more adjectives that would be crossing into the 'name calling' category, but Sam have never seen him like  _this,_ just tired.

"Apology accepted man." Brock looked at her and Sam waved him off. "Water under the bridge." She smiled at him, "well at least until the next time we try to rearrange each other's faces."

Yeah.” Brock softly agreed.

* * *

Tony by now should have known that it was dangerous to his health to burst into a room filled with people who could kill him with a string of floss, especially after the last few weeks, especially during breakfast. However, he was rudely reminded when he slammed open the doors of the communal kitchen only to have no less than five knives embed in the wall above his head.

"I found something." He said, voice soft as he looked at the knives.

Sam picked up her from where she had it on the kitchen table to squint at him. "Something big or small?"

"I found his fucking military record."  _That_ got everyone's attention. " I would say that is pretty big."

" _Whose_  military record?" Steve asked, straitening up from where he was leaning on the counter drinking coffee.

Tony smiled brightly like a student who came first in his class. "Gary Unwin, age twenty-eight years old, a former Royal Marines sniper with honourable discharge from service. He has over three hundred recorded kills in the name of Queen and Country."

"Wait, hold up," Sam spoke, "when I spoke with him the other day, he had a Welsh accent. How the fuck was he part of the Royal Marines?"

"His mother is from Wales, still lives there and his father is British. After his father was killed, his mother took both him and his little sister back to her home country." Tony explained to his captivated audience. "Once Gary was old enough, he returned to England and joined the Royal Marines."

"That actually makes sense, him being a sniper and having military experience." Everyone looked at Jack who spoke. "The first time he attacked Sam, it was a gunshot that wounded but did not kill her. He has the training as well as the patience that he used to pull off all his attacks."

"This is great and all," Clint spoke, his voice still sleep rough, "but what exactly is his connection with Sam and her father?"

All eyes were on Tony again, who was looking less than thrilled for the first time having all the attention in the room on him.

"Tony?" Sam's voice held questions she wanted answered but not sure she wanted to hear those answers. "What else did you find out?"

Tony's brown eyes met hers and Sam knew whatever he had to say was not good. "He killed Gary's father, Lee Unwin. There's more Sam; you may want to brace yourself."

Sam looked at him in disbelief. "How can it get any worse than hearing someone is gunning for you because your dad murdered their father?"

"Trust me, it is a whole lot worse and I am not trying to be funny right now."

"Just rip off the band aid Stark." Sam was tired, she wanted this over and done with before the weight of it broke her.

"Gary and Owen are cousins."

The silence that followed was deafening as no one spoke. No one knew what to say to such a revelation. The silence was then broken by a weird sound. Sam realised it was coming from her and it was the laughter of hysterics. 

"You have to be fucking with me."

"I wish I was Sam."

Sam continued laughing, ignoring her friends' looks of concern. "What else you got?"

"I am so sorry Sam."

"Tony?"

"Owen killed Riley."

"No." She whispered.

"You sure Tony?" Steve asked, but Sam didn't hear. 

All she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears. It was as if the world had fell out from beneath her feet and she was free falling with nothing to catch her. The edge of her vision was dimming, and it was getting harder for her to breathe. Suddenly she was back out there on the battle field in the dark of night, dodging bullets and missiles when suddenly Riley is hit and all she could do was watch as he fell; dead, long before he even hit the ground.

"Shit! Sam!"

She felt herself tilt to the side only to be caught by a pair strong arms. Not caring who it was she buried her face into the muscular chest as hot tears escaped her eyes and fell down her cheeks. Sam felt arms close around her, rubbing her back trying to calm her, but the tears and the flashbacks would not stop.

"Sam, Sam, you have to breathe."

Sam wanted to do as told, but her mind and body would not cooperate. 

"C'mon kid, you gotta start getting some air into those lungs properly or you're going to pass out." The body she was clinging began lowering them to the ground and Sam went willingly, allowing the hands to manoeuvre her so that she was sitting between raised legs with her back to a solid chest, feeling as it rose and fell. "Ok, now breathe with me; copy what I do."

Sam felt the deep inhalation of the chest behind her and copied the movement. Inhaling as deeply as she could, Sam held her breath, only releasing it when the body supporting her did so.

"Good, good."

Since she was now getting oxygen into her body, the fog in her mind began to clear, and even though her eyes burned from fallen tears Sam could see that the kitchen had been cleared of the rest of her teammates, leaving just her and whoever was supporting her.

"That’s good kid keep breathing just like that."

 _Brock_ , her mind supplied. It was Brock holding her, supporting her, getting her to breathe again. Sam eased forward a little and turned in the embrace, leaning her shoulder against his chest, his raised leg braced against her back. Grasping a fistful of his shirt, Sam used the material to dry her tears.

"I'm going to kill him." Her voice rasped, her tone deadly. 

"Who? Gary or Owen?"

"I am going to slowly tear his skin from his bones, pour gasoline into the holes left behind and light him on fire. I am going to watch as he burns to death, screaming in agony from his slow and painful death."

"I am assuming from that graphic image you have put in my head, that you are talking about Owen."

Sam eased up from resting on Brock, but she stayed within the confines of his legs. "He told me he loved me. He kept repeating that over and over and over like a broken record, when all this time, he had shot down my wing-man, my  _best friend_  from the sky." 

Sam inhaled deeply, her eyes roaming the empty kitchen. "Where's everyone?"

Brock looked around the kitchen as well, "I got them to leave when you were breaking down. Figured you did not want an audience."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"How could he have pleaded with me to take him back, when he had killed my best friend? The man was like my brother and he robbed me of him. How can you do that to a person and maintain a straight face around them? Doesn't the guilt start to eat you alive?"

Brock shrugged, "for me, I can separate myself from the situation. Owen though, he had jealousy as one of his driving factors, but you would have to ask him yourself."

"Oh, I do plan on asking him." Sam tilted her head up to the ceiling, "Jarvis, please contact my father and Owen. They need to return."

_"Right away Sergeant Wilson."_

"Are you sure that is a good idea Sam?"

Sam turned her eyes on him, "there is going to be a reckoning Brock. I am going to put them both into the ground once and for all."

 


End file.
